


After the Storm

by Clara_Midwinter, Coffee_Reveries



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-20
Updated: 2019-08-05
Packaged: 2019-11-26 06:41:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 72,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18177191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Clara_Midwinter/pseuds/Clara_Midwinter, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Coffee_Reveries/pseuds/Coffee_Reveries
Summary: Alternate Universe (partially DH compliant). Recently widowed, Harry Potter and his three children move into his best friend Hermione Granger's house by the ocean for the summer, a welcome distraction after months of grieving, following Ginny's death. Read along as Harry and his kids begin to move on after their painful loss and the dawn of new life begins, after the storm. H/Hr!





	1. Chapter 1

** Chapter One: ** _** Life Goes On ** _

_Potter Residence, Godric's Hollow_

_Thursday, June 19th 2014_

 

Harry Potter watched his children with a mix of interest and tenderness as they played and explored the wide backyard of their home, where springtime looked to have already turned into summer. The sun had done wonders to their spirits, and it showed. James and Albus' dark hairs gleamed under the sun, a golden hue coloring their skin, cheeks bright pink from the heat. The boys seemed to be hunting the soil for roly-polies, scavenging beneath stones and at the base of the bushes and flower beds of the garden. Lily, his youngest, on the other hand, was enjoying herself far too much in her factory of mud pies beneath the shade of the flowering Jacaranda tree, purple flowers surrounding her. If Lily's brothers had gained a slight tan from all the sunshine, she had gained an almost coral-color, a consequence of being a redhead. Her wild curls crowned her beautiful face of chubby cheeks with light freckles under her eyes and crossing the bridge of her nose and big eyes of emerald green identical to those of her father.

 

It warmed his heart profusely to see them enraptured by that childlike joy and carefreeness that for such a long time had escaped them and this home. The past year or so had been just sadness, anger, frustration and getting by, at least it had been like that for Harry and his older boys. Lily Potter, now only five years old had felt the absence of her mother, but she had been the first to adjust, and for the lack of a better term "get over" the passing of her mother. Of course Lily remembered Ginny, he would never allow her to forget—there were photographs of her scattered about the house, and the Weasley grandparents, cousins and uncles with their spouses were more than willing to share with the children stories and information on their mother... But with Lily, being so small, the year that had passed could as well have been ten. There was just so much play and fun to be had that she had no time for sadness it seemed. If anything, Lily was his ray of sunshine, and that of her brothers as well.

 

They seemed to be having such a great time that he almost felt bad for having to call them in for bathtime and tidying up before they headed for a family dinner at the Burrow, something they had been invited to last minute because Harry's best friend Ron had a special announcement to make. Harry had a faint idea of what it could be and was even, to his surprise, eager to arrive already to the always warm and inviting Weasley family home... and of course, have the pleasure of dining the Weasley matriarch's incomparable cuisine.

 

"James, Albie! Time's up, time to get ready!" He called from the threshold of the french doors that led to the backyard. The boys' head immediately shot up and looked back to acknowledge their father and with faltering smiles, heavy sighs and grumbling obediently trudged inside. "Lily Luna, you too darling!" He called and the little girl smiled at him hugely, a tooth adorably missing. She got up and made sure to bring her daddy a gift of chocolate mud cake. The poor girl was dirty and covered in mud all over, and Harry was already dreading the challenge that would be washing her curly hair. Of course, he could go the easy way and have his daughter cleaned with the "flick" of his wand, but the years of fatherhood so far had allowed him to learn to savor doing things the more difficult, manual way. Harry loved being hands-on with his children, entertaining them as he gave them bubble baths and personally scrubbed and rubbed them clean. He cherished the softness of their baby skin and the heavenly scent of lavender and baby powder that Lily still had. He preferred a million times to bend down and tie the shoelaces of his kids, comb their hairs, simple mundane things like that than revert to magic... This was something he and Ginny had often times discussed because she simply could not fathom that parenting to him was a magic of its own. And of course, the wand came in handy with other more tiresome things, like the occasional pile of dirty dishes, or picking up a living room's floor worth of scattered toys, chopping the vegetables and stirring the contents of pots and pans while he double-checked the cookbook... and the list could go on.

 

He muttered a locking spell directed at the backyard door swooped Lily into his arms carrying her upstairs, straight for the bathroom. He could already hear from the stairs the bickering between James and Albus from their shared bathroom because one had been taking too long or something of the sort. As Harry passed by their open bathroom door and ordered them to knock it off and for James to please allow his little brother to finish, it then occurred to him that things were beginning to get back into order, or perhaps, better yet, get into a new normal order. To Harry, this fact was equal parts wonderful but also daunting, because it meant that despite his wife no longer being here, life went on.

 

**…**

 

The four Potters arrived at the Burrow just a few minutes late, a small victory, slightly dizzy from the side-along apparition, but all completely clean, decent and hungry. Harry watched as his boys jumped happily at the sight of their cousin Rose, who'd been laying comfortably on the couch reading a book. Rose, like her cousin Albus, was just eight years old. Both their birthdays had been in April, hers on the 14th and his on the 13th. Molly Weasley had thankfully kept things simple, per Harry and Ron's request, a small picnic party with chocolate cake in the Burrow's orchard.

 

Rosie looked so much like her mother that to Harry, seeing her sitting there, engrossed in her book was like seeing a vision of a slightly younger Hermione Granger, from years ago when he'd first met her. Perhaps the only striking difference to her mother was that Rosie's hair was of a deep rust color, a rare darker shade of ginger that could only be explained as a beautiful blend of her mother's honey-colored hair and the bright Weasley-red of her father's. Her eyes, however, big and brown surrounded by dark eyelashes were all her mother and so was her smile and the way she carried herself.

 

While the boys evidently disturbed her reading, Rose was happy to abandon it and a wide smile adorned her features, those three had always been close, especially Rose and Albus who when together were almost twin-like in their synchronicity and affinity... Harry always assumed that it had to do with being born just hours apart and for during their infant and toddler years having been raised almost completely together. But four years had passed since Hermione and Ron had lived next door to Harry and Ginny in Godric's Hollow when they had a wooden door that connected the Potter garden with the Granger-Weasley one. But since the divorce and the moving of houses that it caused, despite their attempts and desires, the families hadn't been able to maintain seeing each other and talking every day. Gone were the Golden Trio's Hogwarts days when they were joined at the hip. And so it was with a bittersweet feeling that each time Harry saw his niece Rose he noticed she might as well have grown an inch, become ever more clever and independent, traits she'd inherited from her mother. To Harry, in his heart, Rose could just as well be his first daughter, the first baby girl to grace his existence and bring a smile to his face, years before he could even dream of his darling Lily.

 

"Uncle Harry!" Rosie cried out in excitement from seeing him, running to hug him tight. The last time she had seen her uncle was at hers and Albus' birthday two months ago. Harry engulfed her in a bear hug taking in her scent of sunshine, gardenias, the seaside and the subtle leather of the book covers. As he snuggled with his favorite niece, he swooped her up and twirled her around, making her erupt in laughter. He paused, slightly out of breath and once again she tightened the arms around his neck, hugging him. "I missed you uncle Harry. You promised to visit us in Tenby but you've never come..." She trailed off as he finally put her down. Harry frowned regretfully. He had indeed made a promise to Rose, her little brother Hugo and Hermione that he'd visit them at their new house by the sea... all the way in Wales, but so far he'd failed to and had been putting it off. He just wasn't in the state of mind in the past year since Ginny's death.

 

"I'm sorry, Rosie, you know how busy things have been..." He told her, running a hand through her mane of rust-colored curls. "If things work out fine your cousins and I will be making you lot a visit soon, okay?" The girl nodded, satisfied and joined Albus and James who were eagerly calling after her from outside, while there was still some natural sunlight.

 

"Harry, dear, I'm so happy you could come on such short notice..." Molly Weasley said finally with a warm motherly smile as she extended her arms to hug him. "Ronald and Luna were adamant we bring together as much of the family as possible tonight, something important they said, but as much as they tried they're keeping quiet about it..." She rattled off, waving a hand in the air, the other on her hip. Suddenly, they both noticed the loud and unabashed creaking of the Burrow's front door opening revealing Ron Weasley with Hugo in his arms followed by Luna Lovegood who to everyone's surprise had become Ron's girlfriend and then wife just two years before now and the same amount of time after his and Hermione's divorce. The unconventional couple now lived in a pink-colored row house on Portobello road, a very muggle area of London where they probably stuck out like two sore thumbs. Ron put Hugo down and kissed his mother on the cheek while Luna kissed the other cheek and then helped Hugo out of his coat. Hugo Weasley was Ron and Hermione's youngest and was the same age as Harry's Lily. Harry ruffled the boy's redhead curls of hair and said hello, but Hugo was far more interested in finding his cousin Lily, running off, away from the boring adults.

 

"Harry, mate, so glad you came!" Harry side as they pat each other on the back and Harry pecked Luna on both cheeks, both seemed to be in the happiest of moods. The trio sat around in the parlor chit-chatting for a bit while they waited for more Weasleys to appear and a good twenty minutes later Molly Weasley called all of her family members, big and small to gather around the table for dinner. The children all lined up to have their hands cleaned by their Granny's spells and everyone took a seat.

 

Halfway through dinner Ron stood and took Luna's hand who stood along with him, earning almost everyone's attention.

"Listen up Weasleys, we have a small announcement to make..." before Mrs. Weasley could interrupt, and she really, really wanted to, Ron stopped her, to which she pouted for a moment. "Lune?"

 

"Everybody, Ronald and I are expecting a baby due around Hallowe'en." She said happily, which led to Mrs. Weasley squealing in delight and scrambling out of her seat to embrace Luna and her son, while from all around the table Ron's brothers and their wives congratulated them, smiles on their faces. Perhaps this had been the first truly happy announcement to grace the family since Ginny's passing. Harry was happy for his two friends, this was their first child together and though Ron already had Rose and Hugo, loved their stepmother a great deal, this would be the child to perhaps seal their union, be the fruit of their love. It was a most wonderful and special announcement indeed. Harry, after patting his best mate on the back and congratulating Luna, looked around the table at the happy faces, until his bright green eyes landed on the brown ones of his niece Rose, only to be slightly dismayed because she was perhaps the only person there without a joyful expression. Worry and perhaps a tourbillion of other mixed feelings gleaming in her eyes. Harry could tell his niece wanted to cry, but before he could react or say anything to her he watched as she exhaled, heavily and discretely and then wiped at her eyes, removing any evidence of sadness or disappointment from her face. For the greater good, perhaps?

 

Rose was too much like her mother.

 

**…**

 

Back at his home in Godric's Hollow, Harry sat up in his bed with just the yellow light of his bedside lamp on, the children long tucked up in their beds, James and Albus in the bedroom they shared and Lily in hers. Sleep came with difficulty for him, not being used yet to the absence of a warm body next to him, the sound of soft breathing and the slow rise and fall of his deceased wife's sleeping form from underneath the covers. He looked at the time on the clock at his bedside table, half past one in the morning. He'd been sitting here like an idiot trying to fall asleep for almost three hours now, perhaps it was time he went down and got himself a sleeping-draught, he decided with a groan. And so Harry did so, and it took all of Harry's courage to get out of the warm covers and as silently as he could cross the wooden flooring of his bedroom and the hallway and descend the creaky stairs.

As he uttered a spell for the lights in the kitchen to go on he noticed a white envelope on top of his table, it was muggle stationary but he could recognize that fine, elegant writing anywhere. He decided to open it and along with a folded piece of paper was also a photograph. He examined it and smile realizing that it was a muggle picture of Hermione with her honey-colored curls held back by a pair of fashionable sunglasses, the blue of the ocean and the sky behind her, the wind blowing at her curls. Beside her was Rose with a matching smile and little Hugo with a mischievous grin and, dark eyes and eyebrows, pale and sandbucket in his hand, about to do something naughty, most likely dump the sand over his older sister's hair. _Kids_... Harry smiled and couldn't help but chuckle at the photograph.

He turned it over already expecting to find some of Hermione's neat writing behind it and indeed it read: " _We're waiting for you, Potters! Picture taken May 15th, 2014 at the beach, by Granny Nell."_ Granny Nell was no other than Hermione's mother Helena Granger, who lived along with her husband in the small seaside village of Tenby, in Wales, the place Hermione had moved to after her divorce and leaving the Ministry of Magic. Hermione looked so uncharacteristically happy and carefree that Harry almost envied her. And to think that years ago she had reached her emotional lowest during the last months of her marriage and the first months following hers and Ron's divorce. Only Harry knew just how much she had suffered, and to see her in this photograph now... He wanted that happiness for himself too and for his children.

He opened the small letter that simply read: _"Harry, what are you waiting for exactly? I know I'm waiting for you and those children of yours to visit me this summer. With love always, Hermione."_

 

**…**

 

The following morning during a breakfast of cereal, toast and scrambled eggs Harry turned to his children and announced, with an excitement he hadn't felt in a very, very long time:

"Children, today we are packing our bags because tomorrow we will hop on a train to visit aunt Hermione, Rosie and Hugo on the beach for the summer. What do you all think?" Needless to say, the Potter children were bubbling with happiness and excitement as they made plans and packed their suitcases, three little balls of energy and anticipation. Harry dropped the children off at the Burrow in the afternoon for a couple of hours and made his way to Paddington station in London where he instantly bought train tickets for himself and the kids. There was no going back now...

 


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two: Arrivals and Departures  
The four Potters as they referred to themselves had been sitting on the train for nearly five hours now. Lily, bless her soul, was napping on the seat next to Harry, her head on his lap. Lily had wanted dress her finest for the first summer holiday ever of her life, although in reality, it was the first she could actually remember. She looked lovely in her purple Christmas sweater with a large yellow "L", a gift from no other than her loving grandmother. She wore a floral dress underneath, black stockings and brown buckled shoes. Lily had been bubbling with excitement ever since Harry had announced that they would finally visit the Grangers in Tenby... She had even accidentally apparated herself to the top of the china cabinet in their dining room, this morning, causing just a bit of havoc, the kind that had to happen, otherwise, this wouldn't be the Potter family. Harry chuckled to himself at the thought, as he tucked a loose ginger curl of his daughter's behind her ear, looking out at the countryside scenery through his compartment window.

James and Albus were sitting in the two seats opposite Harry and Lily, Albus deeply engrossed in a book that had been his cousin Rose's suggestion for him to read, a magical version of the muggle classic 'The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe'. James, on the other hand, had been previously drawing in his sketchbook until a mixture of boredom and tiredness overcame him. His drawing supplies were now once again inside his satchel and he just stared out the window, lost in his thoughts and half asleep himself.

Harry worried about James the most. The usually loud, talkative, mischievous and rambunctious boy he had always been had given way to a boy who was now, for the most part, quiet and introverted. He would play with Albus, Lily, his cousins and friends well enough, but it was those lonesome moments, of silence, moping and sighing that made Harry wish he could just read his son's mind. Of course, Harry could if he wanted to, having trained himself in Legilimency during the war. However, doing that would mean invading the ten-year old's privacy and Harry would much prefer it if James would speak to him of his troubles, worries, and feelings of his own accord, he supposed and hoped that his eldest son would talk to him soon when he felt ready. Ginny's death had taken a toll on all of them, every single day she was missed.

Ginny.

Harry thought about his wife constantly. Whenever he visited the Burrow he still half-expected her to appear from inside the kitchen, after helping her mother cook supper or barge in from the inside, cheeks bright red, brown eyes sparkling after flying on her broom a portion of the afternoon, chest heaving from the pleasant exhaustion and the adrenaline. Whenever he thought of Ginny, it was that happy vision he'd see in his mind and he was enormously grateful towards the universe for it because to be honest, he didn't think he deserved it.

Ginny had passed away two weeks before her birthday on Wednesday, April 18th, 2013, on what had been for the most part a pleasant day of blue skies and a much-deserved break from her job as the Witch Weekly magazine's editor-in-chief. She had flooed out of the house in the morning, after a quick breakfast and having kissed all the children and Harry on the cheek, headed for Madame Malkin's shop where she would be having her dress fitting for the party that would be held by the Ministry of Magic in two weeks time. Ginny had been more than excited for the event as she had been one of the key proponents and organizers of the Anniversary Ball, to be commemorated on May 2nd, the fifteenth anniversary of Voldemort's death and the end of the Second Wizarding War. She had taken it upon herself to make it the event of the year and had been daydreaming of being the literal belle of the ball on the arm of the war's "most honorable hero", which of course meant her husband, Harry.

He recalled how much he had been dreading the party, the showing off and publicity it entailed. Harry hated being the center of attention in these things and deep down felt uncomfortable for being so heralded as the hero when all he believed he had done was escape death, several times. It had been the cause of an angry row between him and Ginny the night before her death, a row that he regretted with all his heart. If only he had known that those would be the last proper words he'd exchange with his wife before she passed... Merlin. Harry felt so utterly silly. He'd take balls, parties, fancy events and the press all over him any and every day if it meant getting his wife back. He missed her dreadfully and always wondered to himself, had she known just how much he loved her when she died?

Ginny's death had been quick, mostly painless and just simply an act of sheer cowardice. Upon leaving Madame Malkin's shop and walking in the direction of her new favorite café, someone walking in the midst of the small crowd going by and shopping had hit her with an unforgivable curse, bright green light taking her life immediately, from the back. Ginny had been disapparated to St. Mungo's by someone who had witnessed everything, but it was already too late. Harry was at home fixing the children's lunch and listening to some music on the kitchen wireless when a tawny owl he wasn't familiar with flew in with a piece of rolled parchment. After he'd read the contents of the paper, sent by the Auror in charge of the 'case', everything was just a blur to Harry. Those three whole months following her death were all a blur actually.

…

Harry's thoughts were interrupted by a small nudge at his shoe. James stared at his father from where he sat across from him.

"Dad, they announced that we'll be at aunt 'Mione's town in an hour. " The boy informed him, knowing very well that Harry had been very much lost in his thoughts for... the past hour or so, as he realized checking the time.

"About time isn't it son, I'm getting hungry." James nodded in agreement. His brother had fallen asleep beside him, his thumb in his mouth and head leaning on his brother's shoulder. Albus had reverted to his toddler habit after Ginny's death, a coping mechanism as Hermione would describe it. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine... This was nice and all but I wish we had just taken the floo to aunt Hermione's house, we'd have been there already."

"Aunt Hermione's house is new and the Ministry department hasn't been there yet to inspect her fireplace and give her the floo license, that's why."

"Oh, I wasn't aware..." James looked at his father in a way that Harry knew that there was something else his eldest wanted to say but was perhaps too afraid or shy to do so.

"Jamie, you know I love you right? That if there's ever anything that is upsetting you I'm here to support and to help you, you know that don't you?" The boy nodded and turned his head away, looking out the window and the sun beginning to set. Seconds later when he looked at his father again there were tears in his eyes threatening to fall and his lips trembled. The boy unfastened his seatbelt and launched himself into his father's arms, letting a sob he'd been holding in for hours escape his lips. Harry sighed and wrapped his arms protectively around his son, holding him and hoping that he could feel just how much he loved and cared. Ten years old was such a difficult age. James was still a little boy but time just passed so quickly that in no time he'd be a young man. Hell, next year would be his first in Hogwarts and though it was such a special place in Harry's heart he dreaded it, the thought of not seeing his James every day.

"D-dad... I miss my mum..." He mumbled, hot tears streaming down his cheeks. Harry caressed James' raven hair in the way that he used to when he was a baby needing to be soothed.

"I miss her too, James." He whispered into the boy's ear. "But you know what, I don't think mum would want us to be sad all summer. You know how much she loved the sea, don't you?" James nodded quietly. "I think she would want us to have as much fun as possible because that is what she would do. What do you say?"

"Yeah... Mum would be the first one to the beach every day to learn how to surf, just like the muggles do in the beach movies." Harry nodded. He could feel a small smile beginning to form on his son's handsome face. "She'd be funny as hell." Harry chuckled at James' comment realizing that he was probably imagining it all in his mind, Ginny trying to ride a wave and failing miserably, being knocked over by the strong waves of the ocean each time. He smiled too.

…

In no time the Potters were standing in the arrivals platform of the Tenby Station, each one carrying a small suitcase. Harry held Lily's hand while the boys stood next to him all four trying to catch a glimpse of their aunt, with her wild mane of golden-brown curls and warm chocolate eyes. In no time they saw her arriving, chest heaving as though she had run a long way towards the platform, afraid of being too late. She had Hugo in her arms, his little arm wrapped behind her neck and Rose by her side looking around frantically for her uncle and cousins. James and Albus spotted them first and wave their empty hands shouting out 'Rose' and 'Aunt 'Mione we're here!'.

Harry caught sight of her from the other side and their eyes met even from afar. He felt a warm feeling wash over him, as he watched her smile happily to him, lovely crinkles at the corner of her eyes. Both families walked towards each other and Harry watched as an excited Hugo practically jumped out of his mother's hold to engulf his cousin Lily. Hermione opened her arms wide and Harry's boys flew into their godmother and auntie's arms, happy to see her. Hermione kissed both boys on the forehead and ran a hand through their hairs.

"My, Jamie I think you've grown at least two inches since I last saw you! Please, please stop growing!" She exclaimed gently pulling him towards her. "And you Albie, you've grown a lot too you sneaky little rascal..." Albus giggled as she tickled him on the side. "I missed you boys so much..." Hermione paused and looked around playfully. "Why, I feel like there's a certain ginger that's missing... Oh no Harry, please tell me you didn't forget Lily at home or inside the train!" Harry chuckled knowing very well that the little girl was hiding behind his legs. Lily giggled loudly despite covering her mouth with her little hands. "Oh Harry, I'm afraid our summer will just not be fun without our Lily..." Hermione fake-lamented, it was then that Lily jumped from behind Harry and ran into Hermione's arms to everyone's amusement. "Oh... there you are!" Lily laughed wholeheartedly as Hermione just about smothered her with kisses. Harry hugged his niece Rosie and Hugo, kissing them both on the forehead.

"And you my Rose-petal, how have you been?" The girl beamed at him.

"Just happy you arrived, uncle Harry." Harry pecked her cheek and put her down as she engaged conversation with Albus and James. Hermione simply slipped her hand in Harry's and squeezed it as the two best friends were followed by their five very energetic children into a dark corner outside of the train station where a small café stood, yellow lights on. They entered and Hermione waved to the elderly mustached man behind the wooden counter. This café could only be seen and entered by wizards as heavy wards were cast around it. Hermione directed them all to a brick fireplace in the back and threw the green floo powder in the flames.

"Number 5 oceanview road, Tenby. Close your eyes, children!" She announced as they all entered. In a minute the Potters and the Grangers were all standing in Hermione's cramped stone fireplace covered in soot.

Rose and Hugo were the first to hop out, pulling at their cousins.

"I thought you didn't have the floo license?" Harry asked. Hermione huffed and rolled her eyes.

"Can you believe they came in just two hours ago? Of course, it was only because I lost my patience and sent them a holler via owl, at least that's something I learned from Molly Weasley!" She said with a laugh. Harry could see the twinkle in her eyes.

"I missed you, 'Mione." She gave him a small smile and finally hugged him properly, enveloping Harry in the bear hug that only she could give.

"I'm glad you came, Harry. You know I missed you even more." He noticed a pink blush suddenly appear on her cheeks. He tucked a curl behind her ear and sighed. "Oh goodness, are you hungry?" Harry laughed and nodded earnestly. Hermione then called all the children into her kitchen with a large wooden table in the center, a beautiful ornate wrought-iron chandelier with yellow and periwinkle lights illuminating the room and the table that was set with a delicious smelling soup for them. Seven bowls and spoons were laid out on top of the floral tablecloth and with a swish of her wand nice warm buns were removed from the oven and lowered onto the table.

"Children, wash your hands, come on! It's dinner time!" The three Potter kids were especially eager for the feast set out for them.

…

Later in the evening, Hermione climbed the stairs towards Rose's bedroom in the attic, which had a large window looking out to the sea. The walls were of a deep blue with white and light yellow stars adorning them that Harry knew Hermione had painted by hand. The large window had lofty translucent curtains that trembled with the wind that entered. The floor was of light wood, with a beautiful cream-colored rug under the white iron bed that had been pushed against a wall in the bedroom. Rose took her uncle's hand and guided him towards the almost magical tent the children and their mother had spent the afternoon building. Hermione had conjured a large mattress that could comfortably fit four or five little wizards, covered with soft cotton blankets of mismatched patterns and colors, full of fluffy pillows. Hermione had charmed the stars embroidered on the fabric covering the tent to shine a soft yellow light, glowing in the dark and transforming Rose's room into a dreamy environment. Rose was already in her magenta pajamas and so was Hugo wearing his gray ones. James had helped Lily into her baby-blue nightgown and he and Albus wore their matching blue plaid pajamas with socks on their feet. Rose had completely abandoned her bed in favor of the cozy tent which she already lay in with Hugo and Albus to her left and Lily to her right. The four were just waiting for Hermione to arrive to begin reading a story, a nightly ritual she had maintained with her children since they were born. Hermione handed the book to Rose as she crawled into the tent, Harry followed suit and finally, a slightly reluctant James curled into his father's side.

Hermione's voice was soft and her words clear as she read the first line of "Anne of Green Gables", a muggle book that had been one of her childhood favorites before she had discovered Hogwarts: A History and the world of magic she now belonged in. The children's attentions were all set on their mother and aunt, taking in each word and each pause with utmost wonder and adoration. As he listened to the story Harry saw some resemblance in his upbringing to that of Anne's who for years had been abused and mistreated. At the same time, he thought her to be so talkative, bookish and imaginative, just like Hermione. He might pick up the book to read by himself another time.

Twenty minutes was all it took for the children to drift off into a deep slumber and for Hermione to mark the page where they had stopped. She closed the book and sighed, turning carefully and slowly as to not wake Lily who had curled into her side. Her brown eyes looked straight into Harry's green ones. Without a word, just the openness of his eyes she wrapped an arm around him, hugging him. They held each other and Harry relaxed into her warmth, her scent of vanilla and the tranquility that surrounded them. If he closed his eyes and really concentrated he could hear the waves of the ocean outside. Not long after, he too drifted off, wrapped in such a deep and peaceful slumber that he hadn't experienced since Ginny had died.

Hermione watched him as he slept, she too reveling in her best friend's warmth, much like she had many years ago during the war that proved to be the darkest days of their lives. She knew how much pain he felt, heartbroken by such an abrupt loss. Hermione sighed and hoped with all her heart that during this summer they could both help each other move on and find happiness again. She ran the tips of her fingers ever so softly over the lightning bolt shaped scar on his forehead, the scar that hadn't hurt in sixteen years.

Hermione turned her back to him in order to find a more comfortable position to sleep in. She had her soft, large bed waiting for her downstairs, hell, even Rose's just in the far corner of the room, but she just couldn't bring herself to get up. As she felt Lily Potter move in her sleep and snuggle into her chest she knew she was trapped, but it was the best kind of trapped. She held back the tears that began to threaten to fall from her eyes, deep in her heart she felt that her family was complete again like no one was missing. Harry Potter, he was her best friend, but he was more than that. He was her brother, he was her confidant, he was the one Hermione turned to when she needed a shoulder to console her and he was always the first person she had in mind when she wanted to share a piece of good news or just about anything really... He was her Harry and it was so wonderful to have him close again.


	3. Chapter 3

** Chapter Three: A Brand New Day **

 

The following morning Hermione woke up just minutes before the sun, which was her usual. She managed to escape the tent and her still sleeping loved ones and tiptoed out of what was her daughter's bedroom in the large attic. She reached the second floor and entered her bedroom, where she slipped on her burgundy robe and pulled her tousled curls up in a bun. She splashed some water on her face and brushed her teeth. As she went down another flight of stairs, using her wand to turn all lights off she noticed Perdita, her owl, flying in and landing on the wall shelf above Hermione's desk towards the back of the living room. She fed the small gray owl a treat and read the letter.

 

_Dearest Hermione,_

_I have received your letter from Perdita with utmost pleasure. I was delighted to read that you have been able to advance in your research on the Tenby citizens and that your bookstore is thriving. Also glad to know that your children are fairing well and that Mr. Potter and his little ones shall be spending time with you after all that has happened the past year since Ginevra's tragic passing._

_My dear, I understand you are now starting your summer holiday but as you know I would highly appreciate it if you would send me the numbers from your research as soon as possible. I have been losing sleep over the Tenby situation as I am afraid the Ministry might notice soon and take abrupt measures. We must tread carefully for the safety of all these families, but also keep in mind that there is a Statute of Secrecy for a reason!_

_The school is quite busy as it's nearly end of the term, but the warmth and sunshine of these past few days have kept almost everyone in the best of spirits._

_Hagrid and Professor Longbottom send you their love, as do I._

_Sincerely,_

_Minerva."_

 

Hermione smiled upon receiving the letter from her former professor and headmistress. Had she known all those years ago as a schoolgirl that she would one day be on a first name basis with the older witch she wouldn't have believed it. But here they were, over a decade later and Minerva McGonagall had become one of her closest friends and confidants. As for the research, it worried Hermione entirely as well. When she first arrived in Tenby, straight after her divorce she hadn't expected to find much of a wizarding population and had come with the near certainty that Tenby would be a place where she and her children would have to be extremely careful in to hide their magic.

 

Slowly the magical folk of Tenby began to reveal themselves. At first, it had been the intense owl activity in the area that she had detected, even during the day. And after that, it was a series of little things. The flash of green floo powder she saw from the corner of her eye as she passed a neighbor's house; a whispered conversation between two customers at her bookshop, commenting on _The Prophet's_ latest headline, and finally it had been an older wizard pulling out his wand as he accioed the keys to his shop, thinking himself alone on the street.

 

When the time finally came for Rose to be enrolled in the local primary school Hermione had been shocked to see a few small boxes to tick at the end of the form. _Are the parents of the child magical?_ _Has your child manifested signs of being magical?_ These fields had all been invisible to Hermione's very muggle mother, but very obvious to her – a simple, seemingly meaningless charm that to Hermione had revealed a lot about the town she now resided in, and she had felt utterly gobsmacked. She couldn't recall any mention of a larger wizarding population in Tenby, or Pembrokeshire for that matter. There had only been mentions of a single neighborhood in Cardiff, Wales. It was then that Hermione discovered that the school catered to muggle, magical and squib children and that a large percentage of Tenby's population was magical, and if not magical, knew and was aware of magic, which was the cause of hers and professor McGonagall's great worry.

 

Hermione sighed heavily and pinched the bridge of her nose. Where on Earth had she left those graphs and charts she had designed for McGonagall? She searched around the piles of scattered papers, inside a number of books and journals sitting atop her large vintage wooden desk and looked inside the numerous drawers. Her heart began to beat exceedingly faster when the minutes passed and she still hadn't located them. She then heard the German grandfather-clock chime, an heirloom from her paternal grandparents. It was eight o'clock already and she had to open up shop... Hermione hadn't even brewed the morning's coffee and put the cinnamon rolls in the oven. She muttered an apology to Minerva McGonagall under her breath, overwhelmed by her uncharacteristic lack of organization the past week and shuffled into the kitchen, where the sun illuminated the room. With a simple spell she had water boil inside a red thermos bottle, and the buns floating inside the already lit and warm oven. She opened the refrigerator and took out some oranges, apples, bananas and an avocado and with another spell had the fruits peeled and diced into tiny squares, mixed inside a large ceramic bowl where she tossed in some milk cream and condensed milk that she knew the children loved. She splashed a bit of cool water and ice cubes inside and with another spell put a lid on the bowl, floating it back into the fridge with her wand.

 

Another spell and the few utensils she had used were nice and clean, laying on her dish rack. It was especially on days like these that she thanked God, the heavens, and Merlin that she had magic running through her veins.

 

Hermione hurried up the stairs into her bedroom and put on an Irish linen button-down dress with white and light blue vertical stripes, putting on a pair of black ballerina flats and throwing on a red jumper over the dress. She quickly glanced at herself in the mirror and rolled her eyes as she noticed she was heading out with her hair looking like that of a mad woman and so she released her curls from the elastic and rubbed on the cream that since she had discovered it ten years ago had done miracles to her bushy, frizzy hair and turned them into the defined and smooth honey-brown curls of now.

 

She didn't bother much with makeup, never had, but seeing that today she would only work a half shift and then go out with the children and Harry, Hermione decided that she had a few seconds to spare and accioed her favorite red lipstick and quickly put it on, slipping the small tube in her pocket for later retouches.

 

She was out the door as quick as lightning and when Harry came down the stairs, still wrapped in his drowsiness, rubbing his eyes all he could catch was a glimpse of her curly hair as the bright red door closed behind her.

 

…

 

After breakfast and Harry had all the children properly dressed, combed and looking lovely, Harry head out of Hermione's charming row house with Rose as his guide, as they became acquainted with the picturesque beauty of the small house. The roads were mostly narrow and of cobblestones and the houses, inns and restaurants were all lined together in little rows, walls painted in contrasting pastel colors—blues, yellows, pinks and greens that colored the village and made it look even more charming. Most of the windows had flowerboxes in full bloom and the Tenby dwellers seemed warm and polite in stark contrast to those of big city London. Almost everyone passed and said 'good morning', or a 'hello' and sometimes even exclaimed, 'guiding tourists today, Rosie?', almost everyone familiar with the Granger-Weasley children. As Rose was enthusiastically pointing towards an ice cream parlor with walls of pink and mint color, a plump older woman stopped and greeted her with pink chubby cheeks and a warm smile.

 

"Rosie darling, just saw your mum at the shop. Lots of customers today, love!" Rose politely said hello and informed the lady that they were on the way to the bookshop when the woman finally took notice of the large brood of boys and Lily around the eight-year-old, with Harry standing behind them, eyeing her with a certain curiosity. When the lady, who looked to be a neighbor caught sight of his looks, the spectacles and a small tip of the scar on his forehead that he tried to hide behind his messy raven hair, her hazel eyes went wide in what he knew was recognition. And to recognize Harry Potter in such a way, she just had to be magical herself. "Goodness, but by Merlin's beard..." She gasped and then covered her lips with a hand, "You're Harry bloody Potter, aren't you?" Harry nodded shyly, more than used to this sort of reaction and held out his hand to the woman, who took it eagerly. "My, my... Well, I'm Regina Butterfield, Mr. Potter and it's certainly a pleasure to meet the man who saved all our arses from You-know-Who and his deatheaters—I'm a muggle-born you know." The last part she had whispered as she leaned closer towards him, still in a hushed voice. "I'm the chairwoman of Tenby Magical Association, TMA? Surely Ms. Granger has told you about it... We have a large magical and squib population here in town and it's mine and the TMA's job to put everything and everyone in order, so the Ministry won't come in running." She rolled her eyes in annoyance at the mention of the Ministry of Magic.

 

Lily tugged on Harry's sleeve asking her father when they would pick up aunt Hermione so they could all head down to the beach together, therefore interrupting the older witch, who then realized her introduction had lasted longer than intended.

 

"Mrs. Butterfield, it was a pleasure to meet you, but I'm afraid it's the children's first day of summer and they are far too impatient and anxious to arrive at the beach."

 

"Oh, that's quite all right. Sorry for keeping you, loves." She said with a warm smile as she ran a gentle palm over Rose's rust-colored curls and looked at them tenderly. "See you all around then, enjoy your day!" With that she was off, humming a toon under her breath as she carried a basket of groceries and what looked like a paper bag with the name and logo of Hermione's bookshop on it.

 

"Mrs. Butterfield is a talker," Rose informed Harry, as they continued on their way, thankful for the blue skies and warm sun, even if it was still ten in the morning. "But I like her, she's very nice and bakes the best butter cookies. Better than the ones in the tins you buy!" She exclaimed. Harry chuckled at this, in a way glad to be in a town that wasn't solely comprised of muggles, where he could find other people besides Hermione and the children to speak of certain things with.

 

They arrived at the bookstore just as an older couple left with smiles on their faces, purchased items in hand.

 

" _Granny!_ " Harry heard Hugo cry out and then run to embrace the woman's legs, which came as a surprise to Harry and the other kids, as Hugo was known to be the quietest and most introverted of all the children Harry knew, a stark contrast from the boy's equally redhead father and even his mother most times.

 

"Hugo, my darling!" She cried out and picked him up, filling him with kisses. The man at her side ran his fingers in the boy's ginger curls and greeted him with a smile and sparkle in his eyes. His eyes turned to see who had been accompanying his grandson and seemed pleasantly surprised to see his daughter's longtime best friend and former brother-in-law, finally in Tenby with his children for a visit. "Oh, Laurie, don't you think Hugo's grown an inch since we saw him last?"

 

"My goodness, Helena, you saw the boy _two_ days ago!" He said with a chuckle before extending a hand to Harry and greeting all of the other children, including his granddaughter. "Harry Potter, now that's someone I had never expect to see around here. We'd given up on you ever coming for a visit, son! How are you?" Harry smiled and patted the older man, Hermione's father on the back.

 

Laurence Granger was tall, handsome and especially athletic. Hermione had once shared with Harry that her father could have been a successful heartthrob actor in his day, the next Richard Burton (and the man sure had the looks to prove it) if his father hadn't forced him to choose between law, medical or dental school. His eyes were the color of olive-oil and his light brown hair had become mixed with silver at his temples and above his ears. His skin was a bit tan from all the beach-going, Harry imagined, and his voice was of a deep, slightly husky baritone. Laurence Granger was pleasant; a man of elegance and of a natural grace and charm, a man of easy conversation who was friends with just about everyone. Next to him stood his wife, Helena, who was much shorter than him, but was beautiful as well. Hermione was the spitting image of her mother, what with the deep and large brown eyes framed by thick dark lashes, the plump rosy lips and the wild mess of curls on her head. The woman was curvier, but was also elegant, as always. She wore a pair of salmon linen trousers and a casually elegant blouse with Russian embroideries, eyes framed by a fashionable pair of red glasses that contrasted with the now complete silver of her curls. There were smile lines at the corner of her lips and eyes and despite the easy laughter he had always known Helena Granger to fall into, knowing she was always a happy and bubbly soul, underneath the image of someone so easygoing was also a woman of profound knowledge and intellect, who seemed to have read every single book known to muggle-kind. It was perhaps Helena Granger who had influenced her daughter the most.

 

"Quite all right, Mr. Granger, thank you. How has Tenby been treating the both of you, Hermione tells me you both have been making the most of your retirement!" The man nodded vigorously.

 

"Yes, yes. We've been doing quite a lot of traveling around Europe lately and we're planning a trip to Colombia to escape the winter this year. But the best part is really getting to see our Hermione so much more often, I'll admit. And our Hugo and Rosie as well!" He added as Rose wrapped her arms around her grandfather's, cuddling him and looking up in adoration.

 

"Harry, we spoke to Hermione just now and were wondering if you all wouldn't mind coming to our place tomorrow for dinner, eat some local dishes and just enjoy ourselves over some wine. What do you say?" Helena asked Harry with eyes so hopeful that he didn't have the heart to say no, even if he had nothing better planned for tomorrow.

 

"I would love to, Mrs. Granger. It would be a pleasure actually!" Helena beamed and held Harry's face impulsively, placing an enthusiastic motherly kiss on each cheek. "It's a date then. Dress comfortably, all of you, no need for any former attire or anything, just family." Harry nodded and smiled. It had been two or three years since he'd last seen Hermione's parents and honestly, they were wonderful.

 

"Well, then we should go now, Laurie, Harry, and Hermione have a date with the children at the beach and we have shopping to do for tomorrow!" Helena turned and bowed to the kids' level, kissing each one, even Harry's three who looked at her with fascination, the image of what their aunt Hermione would look like as an older woman. "I'll have a delicious strawberry and custard pie waiting for you lot and treacle tart for Harry as I know he loves it." Harry blushed at the fact that she remembered but then realizes that it was quite obvious as she did, probably having heard it only a hundred times before from her daughter. "Bye, bye, everyone!"

 

…

 

Hermione's bookshop was in a charming corner row house with an aged brick facade, a large glass display up front with white frame and flower boxes containing flowers of all sorts of colors. There were three sets of ornate white iron round tables in front, each one with two or three matching chairs and next to the bright yellow door was a chalkboard with the day's specials from the café inside, the announcement of a book reading in the following evening and a special sale on children and YA literature.

 

The bookstore sign was a lovely and elaborately ornamented oval bracket-sign with a yellow background and black letters spelling out "Sea Otter Books & Coffee", with a sketch of the cute face of an otter in black, a name Harry knew was directly linked to the fact that Hermione's personal Patronus was a sea otter.

 

As Harry opened the yellow door for them all to go inside, finally, the little bell at the top rung and his quick, Auror-trained eyes immediately caught sight of Hermione's gaze shifting towards them, as she helped a gentleman customer locate a specific book. Behind the counter and minding the register was a young man, no older than twenty who Rose promptly informed her uncle was called Owen and worked their during the busy summers when he was off from university. At the café a woman with bright blue hair, certainly not natural, served cappuccinos, pastries, bread and soups to the customers in line. The woman was a new friend of Hermione's, she'd mentioned her in a few letters but Harry couldn't remember her name, only that her son was in Hugo's class and had shown sign of accidental magic.

 

"That's Susan, she works with mum," Rose told him. "Uncle Harry, I'm going to look at the books now if that's all right." Harry chuckled at just how seriously the little girl took her job as his personal (and bossy and bushy-haired) tour guide;

 

"That's fine Rose-Petal, I don't mind. I'll let you know when we're ready to leave." The girl nodded and pulled Albus and James by the hand as Hugo and Lily trailed behind, climbing up the wooden stairs into the children's section above.

 

Harry looked around at the tall wooden shelves with detailed carvings, to the brim in books that Hermione had separated by theme and in alphabetical order by author. There were at least two cozy-looking window seats in the large room that provided a comfortable reading corner for the muggle bookworm and soft and aged leather sofas and armchairs scattered about. Towards the back where a large stone fireplace was the main focal point, with black and white framed photographs of Tenby in the old days and oil paintings Hermione had collected from antique shops and local artists, was a similar area to that of the Gryffindor common room where he and Hermione along with Ron had spent a good portion of their youth. A large brown suede sofa sat on top of a large and beautiful Turkish rug, a love seat to it's left and to its right two armchairs of teal velvet in elegant Louis XIV style, minus the gold. In the middle was a large wooden coffee table with scented candles, a few mugs of tea and coffee and books some customers had taken out to look at. Harry imagined that this entire shop could very well be heaven on Earth for Hermione, a blatant contrast to her office in the ministry where he had only known her to be stressed, forehead creased, always sighing heavily, whether out of exhaustion or annoyance.

 

Here, he could tell, she was in her element. She helped the locals find the books they needed but would also chat with them about life or something or other that was happening in the small town or suggesting a certain book or other.

 

"She's the bookworm whisperer" he heard a voice say from behind him, to which Harry slightly jumped. A tall and lean blonde man, about Harry and Hermione's age, smiled warmly as he too watched the woman across the bookshop from them. "She looks at you, a small chat here a little comment there and _boom_ , she knows just the book you need to make life less miserable." He chuckled.

 

"I'm Corin, Corin Hewitt. You're not from these parts, are you?" He spoke with a typically Welsh lilt to his voice. Though he seemed quite nice there was a tiny part of Harry that was in a way disturbed about how he seemed to know so much of Hermione's ways and the openness with which he stared at her...

 

"Uh, no, actually. From London. I'm Harry, Hermione's _best_ friend."

 

"Oh, nice, pleasure to meet." They shook hands for a moment. "I'm her neighbor, I live right across the street from her and those adorable kids..." Somehow he seemed to notice a small glimmer of anger mixed with jealousy that even Harry didn't realize he had let on through his emerald-colored eyes. "With my husband." He added, with a chuckle.

 

Harry instantly seemed to relax his tense muscles at the words, that moment he noticed Hermione approaching them, a pencil tucked behind an ear.

 

"Harry—what took you so long, I can't believe Rose didn't know the way..."

 

"Not at all, she was perfect. Just happened to meet a number of people on the way here." Hermione chuckled and nodded in understanding.

 

"Corin, how are you? Looking for anything specific today?"

 

"Oh, just stopped by for some coffees and pastries, Herm. Mark's waiting for me at home. We are coming for the book reading tomorrow, the author's a friend of ours. Will we be seeing you here?" Hermione shook her head.

 

"No, not tomorrow. I have the entire weekend off with Harry and our kids, I promised no work. But Susan will be here and Owen as well." He nodded.

 

"Splendid. I was telling Harry that you're the towns book whisperer... No one really thoroughly and enjoyably read before you arrived. Now it's like there's no more televisions or phones in this town." He said with a sarcastic laugh to which Hermione playfully slapped him on the arm.

 

"Hey, if it weren't for me you'd never come across Oscar Wilde!"

 

"That's... very true. I would never have given him a chance if it weren't for you." He leaned forward and kissed her on the cheek. "Lovely seeing you, darling."

 

"Same. Tell Mark I said hi." Corin nodded and left with his coffees and bakery orders in hand and Hermione turned to Harry, who had simply watched the encounter and banter of what seemed like two old and intimate friends.

 

"Shall we then, Harry?" She asked him, as she unceremoniously slipped a hand into his. He nodded, mesmerized by the glow on her face and about her, seeing so happy and looking so lovely. There were no words. Hermione looked at him quizzically, almost as though she probably was asking herself why the cat had caught his tongue. She pulled Harry behind an empty row of bookshelves, doublechecked around her and sent her otter Patronus to call after the children, visible only those who were magical.

 

In just a minute or two dark haired boys followed by three redheads came running down the stairs animatedly. Lily and Hugo held on to a hand of Hermione's each while Harry held Rose and James', Albus at his cousin Rose's side as always. They all took a different path once again through the townhouses towards the beach, passing colorful houses, restaurants, shops, and inns as they enjoyed the heat of the sun against their skins. The children conversed amongst them with excitement, but between Harry and Hermione nothing really needed to be said, neither one felt obliged to break the silence, and they kept on their way with the sound of the ocean's waves becoming gradually louder and closer. From the corner of his eyes he watched her, hair golden from the sunshine and she watched him, thinking to herself that she was yet to see him smile, happiness in his green eyes.

 

They arrived at the beach where already tourists had set up their beach towels in the sand and parasols. As the two adults sat on top of the large green beach towel Rose had packed, they appreciated the view and the contrasting shades of cerulean of ocean and skies, their children splashing in the water and building forts and castles in the distance.

 

"Did I mention I'm glad I came?" He told her, finally. Hermione just looked at him with the left corner of her lip rising ever so slightly, threatening to open up in a smile. She rummaged inside the picnic basket Harry had brought and pulled out a bottle of white wine and two glasses that he'd charmed not to break. She poured them both and lifted her glass up, meaning to make a toast.

 

"To Harry Potter in pursuit of happiness..." She said, voice filled with humor.

 

"To Hermione Granger in pursuit of love..." He cracked a smile at her, the corners of his eyes crinkling, which awoke the butterflies in her stomach, her cheeks blushing in a furious pink. They clinked their glasses and drank in pleasant companionship, interrupted only by the occasional approximation of one or more children asking for something or other.

 


	4. Salt, Wine and Roses

They were unmistakingly and irresponsibly tipsy already as they finished their second bottle of wine, sitting there on the beach. Lily and Hugo had both become tired due to both heat and all the swimming and running as the children had entertained themselves with a game of tag. Lily lay cradled in Hermione's arms, red hair still wet and salty, sleeping peacefully and undisturbed by her aunt and father who continued to talk and laugh about everything and nothing under a parasol Hermione had carried in the picnic basket, shrunken. Hugo had fallen asleep curled into a ball, wedged in the small space between his mother and uncle, skin red from all the sun. Meanwhile, James, Albus and Rose had formed a large playgroup with other children their age on the beach and were very much having fun playing pirates or sharks or whatever and it was just so good to see them so happy and just being the carefree children that they should be. Hermione had to call them over at least three times since they arrived to get them to put on sunblock again and drink some water or iced tea.

 

"Hermione..." He said and Hermione turned to look at him, vision hazy and body feeling so light that if it weren't for Lily's weight in her arms she would probably float. She hated that each time he said her name like that it made her feel funny inside, a good sort of funny, like each time was the first.

 

As he seemed to try to remember what he was going to say, Hermione's attention traveled to his face, very different from that of the boy she had etched in her memory, the skinny and awkward boy she had met on a train almost a lifetime ago and then the young man she had spent a year living with inside a tent— another lifetime ago. He had lines of both smiles and worry on the edges of his eyes and corners of his lips, his hair was still shiny and raven as it had always been, perpetually messy, but gray hairs had sprouted here and there. Then there was that ever charming beard he'd been growing lately. He'd always wanted to grow a beard, she remembered him mentioning it once in a while, but Ginny had always been against it, saying it made him look old. Except to Hermione, he didn't look old, not at all, but he looked more attractive and mysterious than ever and she was embarrassed to even think about it, how a silly, girlish crush began to form inside of her and only escalated with the hours they spent together. She was being utterly silly. Harry was her best friend, her brother, the godfather of her children, in her heart, he would forever be that little boy who she rode on the back of a hippogriff as a girl. Hermione shouldn't, couldn't be feeling these _things_ , not now, not ever.

 

"Ah, yes—," he seemed to finally remember. The two of them were just a ridiculous pair of grown-up lightweights, Hermione thought before she heard him continue, "I met Mrs. Butterfield on my way to your shop. She told me she was the president or whatever of a magical association, what's that all about?"

 

"The TMA, Tenby Magical Association." He nodded. Hermione took a small sip from her glass of wine, "it's an organization I have been researching, well, it's not the only part of my research but it's important. When I moved to Tenby I had just come out of the divorce and I was a mess, you remember right, Harry?" The raven-haired wizard nodded in consent and she continued. "Well, I came here at first because my parents had moved here after falling in love with the place after visiting it during a holiday. I had no great expectations of staying long, but I did because it was so good to be closer to them again, I mean, for all the wonderful things that happened to me since age eleven and discovering I was a witch, meeting you and Ron and everything... it all drove a certain wedge between my parents and I. Not because they didn't support me or anything but because I was never home and they didn't know quite how to reach out to me. We lived in completely different worlds. Anyway, I carried that emptiness inside for so long, during Hogwarts, after Hogwarts, during my marriage I missed my mum and dad more than anything and I needed them in what was perhaps the most difficult time of my life..."

 

"What does that have to do with TMA?" Hermione rolled her eyes and huffed in her usual way at his interruption.

 

"Let me finish, Harry." He chuckled at her, the bossy little girl of his childhood for a split second appearing before his eyes. "When I decided to live here I thought it was just a small, ordinary muggle town and that if there were two or three witches or wizards besides myself and the kids it was a lot already. What I began to notice however was signs of magic everywhere. The abundance of messenger owls, people carrying wands, people who knew about magic and that's when it hit me. Tenby had a larger wizarding community than I had expected."

 

"And you were surprised because it wasn't something you read about in _A History of Magic_ or something?" Hermione nodded emphatically.

 

"I had never heard or read any mention of Tenby anywhere in our magical circles or in the books, so yes, it was a shock, albeit a pleasant one. As I befriended Mrs. Butterfield who you met and some others, like Corin for instance, I realized that in this town not all, but an impressive amount of people _knew_ about magic and were perfectly fine with it, even those who weren't magical at all. I've been researching the Tenby folk nearly two years now, Harry, I have come to realize that Tenby, such an insignificant little town has the largest wizard to muggle ratio in Europe. Where everywhere it would be something like 5 muggles for each wizard here it's 3 muggles for each wizard and beyond that, I have come across some documentation, backed by interviews I carried out with several people that this is all due to the fact that Tenby became a sort of refuge town for persecuted squibs and Muggle-borns."

 

"Of course, historically ostracized and prejudiced again against traditional wizarding society." Harry completed, things becoming more clear to him now.

 

"Tenby is a refuge town and in a way a colony comprised by a large population of squibs who left or were abandoned by their pureblood families, Muggle-borns and their families, be it parents, siblings, spouses, children. Also, in Tenby a social phenomenon happens much more often than in any other part of Europe or perhaps the world—there is a very large number of mixed families here. Wizards or witches who married muggles, squibs married to muggles, squibs married to witches or wizards, the likes. The spouses, of course, know that their partners are magical or come from a magical background, it's common knowledge, and the children are brought up knowing as well, even if they grow up without manifesting magic itself. The most amazing thing to me is that here people live in perfect harmony, Harry, people know about magic, practice it almost freely and everyone just goes on with their lives without thinking much of it. They don't really care if ones are different than the others. I think that's largely due to the fact that the majority of wizards here are Muggle-borns and half-bloods, more open-minded people in general, people who like myself have always had one foot in the magical world and another in the muggle world."

 

"That's your research?" Harry was quite surprised and shocked by the things she had told him, that defied just about everything practiced in the magical circles he knew around London and in other parts of the country, where magical communities didn't ever mix or care to mix with the muggles. "Wow, Hermione, just wow..."

 

"Professor McGonagall had a very similar reaction," Hermione told him with a smile. "She's been financing my research and is my mentor in this. I don't know if you know but McGonagall was raised as a muggle until she received her Hogwarts letter. Her mother was a witch and her father a muggle pastor. Mrs. McGonagall made the decision to quit using magic altogether after her marriage, afraid of her husband's reaction. That deeply affected McGonagall's childhood and her relationship with her mother, so it's a subject that's also close to her heart." To Harry, all of this was a novelty.

 

"And how come I've never heard of any of this within the Ministry?" He asked after a few minutes of taking it all in.

 

"That's what I'm currently trying to figure out. I have an inkling that it could be because this is such a tightknit community, but certainly, Hogwarts registries would notice a large number of witches and wizards from this area, wouldn't they?"

 

"And they go to Hogwarts?" Hermione nodded.

 

"Yes, absolutely. Rose's teacher is one example, she's a Hufflepuff. She entered Hogwarts right after I graduated, so I didn't get the opportunity to meet her then." Harry nodded in understanding.

 

"So non-magical people, besides the squibs and relatives to muggle-borns—they know about magic?" Hermione nodded.

 

"But doesn't that represent a breach of the Statute of Secrecy?"

 

"Technically it would, but at the same time the vast majority of them are family relatives of wizards, so it's a bit of a gray area..." Hermione finished her glass of wine in one gulp and sighed, watching as the children seemed to be picking up their beach toys and bidding their beach friends goodbye in the distance. "It made sense for this place to stay a secret during the first and second wizarding wars when Muggle-borns and squibs suffered persecution, but that's no longer the case. Mine and Professor McGonagall's fears are that knowledge of Tenby and what goes on here catches the Ministry's attention, and basically the repercussions that could come from that. I mean, what do you suppose could happen? You can't obliviate an entire city..." Harry nodded. "We also worry that there is a new wave of conservative, blood purist views on the rise again, judging by Ginny's death and other things that have been in the paper recently. We fear for the future, you know?" Harry nodded, twirling his glass of wine between his fingers. Hermione sensed a small pang of sadness at the mention of his deceased wife's name. She just watched him with curiosity, wondering whether it'd been best not to mention the beloved redhead. After a long few seconds of silence, he turned to look at her with an expression of worry.

 

"Like this is the calm before the storm?" Hermione nodded.

 

"Yes, exactly."

 

"Would you like it if I perhaps investigated independently, on the subject within the ministry, to see if there are any sights set on Tenby?"

 

"I don't know, I wouldn't want to attract any attention—if anyone were to find out that Harry Potter was looking for information on a small seaside village in Wales, curiosities would be sure to arise, even if you are careful and discrete." He nodded in understanding, she was right.

 

"And the Tenby Magical Association?"

 

"Was formed years ago by local wizards and squibs as a sort of way to control and manage the local magical and magic-knowing community, to make sure everything continues under wraps and no one does anything stupid. They also organize courses and events to council muggle and squib parents of little witches and wizards headed for Hogwarts, a fabulous Halloween party and you will also be happy to know that we have a local Quidditch team, up and rising, the Tenby Guardians." Harry smiled at that.

 

"So it's fine to fly on a broom around here?" Hermione nodded with a smile.

 

"Oh yes, as long as you use a camouflaging charm to make yourself look like a bird or something, from afar."

 

"Hmm, and have _you_ been flying lately?" He said with a playful smile. Hermione laughed with a light blush creeping onto her cheeks.

 

"Hell _no_ , Harry!" Harry broke into a laughter that surprised even Hermione and made Lily and Hugo stir in their heavy sleep, to the point where the little girl's green eyes, identical to her father's, opened and looked at him with curiosity. Hermione swatted him on the arm for laughing at the expense of her fear of flying, happy to see him more at ease and relaxed. The older kids finally arrived, tired, sunburnt and ready to go home. Harry got up, with a smile on his face and ran a hand on his beard which Hermione looked up to watch with interest, unknowingly biting her bottom lip. He noticed her attention was on him and became quite flustered. He turned around awkwardly and began to gather their things and place them in the basket, while Hermione shook Hugo awake and Lily lazily wormed herself out of her aunt's lap.

 

**-/-**

 

When the Grangers and Potters arrived back to Hermione's house, a good fifteen minute walk later, Hermione ushered the children to the tiny backyard where she hosed them down to get rid of the excess salt and sand in their skin and hair, something they thought was a great deal of fun, as Harry watched from the kitchen window. When she finished she ordered Rose up to and bathe in the bathroom attached to her room in the attic, James to the hallway bathroom while Albus showered in the bathroom in Hermione's bedroom. Lily and Hugo sat on the porch-swing waiting for their turns, munching on a chocolate frog each that Hermione had fished out of her purse to keep them entertained.

 

Meanwhile, Harry got a headstart on their lunch, preparing ham, cheese, lettuce and tomato sandwiches for everyone, calculating each person would eat two sandwiches, accompanied by some chamomile iced tea to get the children a bit calmer and ready for a lazy afternoon nap before more playtime and dinner in the evening, and of course, the storytime ritual. It was just after three o'clock and Harry could feel the laziness that came from the effect the beach had on him, paired with the slightly drunken haze of the alcohol he and Hermione had consumed, seeping into his bones. What he wouldn't do to fall on a nice soft bed just about now and just drift into a dreamless sleep.

 

A few minutes later as he was setting the large table a bathed and dressed Rosie walked into the kitchen to make him company, sitting on a chair and just watching him finish. Harry noticed she wanted to share something with him and sat next to her. Rose turned to look at him swallowed hard, he noticed the trembling of her lips and tears pooling in her eyes. He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and pulled her into his arms, her head resting on the crook of his shoulder. He held her and rubbed on her back as he patiently waited for her tears to subside. He hated seeing her so upset and saddened. Rose was very intelligent and communicative, bossy even, no different from her mother, but she was also deeply sensitive and at times insecure. As he felt her hiccups begin to grow further apart he pulled her little hand to his lips and gently kissed it, as though she were that little baby girl he had held all those years ago once again.

 

"Do you want to tell me the reason you're so sad?" He asked her softly, caressing the curls on her hair soothingly. She nodded, quietly, head tucked between his neck and chin now.

 

"My dad's going to have a _new_ baby," she mumbled, "and he's probably going to forget all about me and Hugo because we live far away and he and mum don't love each other anymore..." She said everything all at once, so quickly and frantically that Harry had to strain to hear her. The poor child he thought. Harry kissed her little hand once again and sighed heavily.

 

"Rosie, I understand you are upset but you know how much your daddy loves you, don't you?" She shrugged, mumbling something incoherent under her breath. "I've known Ron for many years and he's my best mate, you know that. I was also there the day you came into this world and Merlin, Rosie, I had never seen so much love in someone's eyes as the love I saw in his as he held you in his arms. That kind of love doesn't go away Rose, I know it. Yes, you may not see your father that often anymore because he's in London and you are here, but he will never stop loving and caring for you, or Hugo. You are his pride and joy, Rose, you should see how his face lights up when talking about you—he always talks about you."

 

"R-really?" She asked in a whisper, wiping at her nose with the back of a hand.

"You know I wouldn't ever lie to you." She nodded and Harry could feel her arms snaking around his neck and holding onto her uncle for dear life. "Think about how great it will be to have a new baby brother or sister, you'll have two siblings just like Albus!" Rose seemed to cheer up slightly at the thought. "Your daddy loves you, Rose, your mother loves you, your brother and cousins love you, I love you so very much," Harry stated, holding her little face so that her eyes looked into his. "I promise you that everything will be all right." Rose nodded and hugged her uncle again, for the longest time.

 

As she walked into the kitchen with the other children already bathed and ready to eat, it was that image that Hermione found. Her eyes met with Harry's and without uttering a word his eyes told her that he would tell her later. She nodded silently and motioned for the other kids to take their seats.

 

"Shall we eat now, Rosie-Posy? I'm hungry, aren't you?" The little girl wiped her tearstained eyes and cheeks and nodded, slipping out of her uncle's lap and taking a seat next to him. No one around the table mentioned a thing and James wisely directed the subject of conversation to the new friends they had met on the beach.

 

**-/-**

 

The children were all settled on Hermione's queen-size bed watching a film she had put on for them as the two adults lay sprawled together on the comfortable living room sofa. Harry had shared with a concerned Hermione about Rose's small breakdown, which had in a way upset her.

 

"I just wish she would come to me for comfort, no offense, Harry." He shook his head.

 

"None taken, although try to see things from her point of view, maybe she needed to hear it from another dad, you know?" Hermione nodded in understanding. She took a sip out of a brand new wine glass, this time a more robust red. The two had been curled together on the sofa for a good half-hour now and it was in a way amazing how they had gone from each in a different corner of the sofa, to wrapped in one another's arms, Hermione's head resting on his shoulder, his hand lazily grazing up and down her upper arm. Hermione savored the sensation of being in his strong arms, she felt safe, warm, at peace and it was a combination of sensations she hadn't experienced in a long time. "Speaking of dads, we also bumped into your parents outside the bookshop." Hermione rolled her eyes and smiled, releasing a hoarse, light chuckle.

 

"They were hoping you'd come, they like having all these little kids around. Mum likes to pretend she's Molly Weasley sometimes!" Hermione said with amusement. "She always wanted to have many kids, but old little me was all she got."

 

"Really?" Hermione nodded.

 

"Mum struggled with infertility many years. I came after a series of miscarriages and my dad just didn't have the heart to see her go through the grueling process of trying to conceive again after me. You know how happy my mum is, he told me once she had been just a shadow of what she was in those years, disillusioned with her own betraying body."

 

"Hmm. Would you like to have had siblings?" Hermione nodded.

 

"In retrospect, I think I would have, even if just to make mum and dad company when I possibly couldn't. Can you imagine trying for so many years to have a child and then to finally have one and have her come out magical, while you are a muggle, and having her be torn away from you for such long periods of time?" Hermione swallowed down a bit more of her red wine. "I only fully realized just how much they suffered because of me being a witch when I became a mother myself. I don't know about you Harry, but I am dreading the day my Rose turns eleven and I have to separate from her so she can go to Hogwarts. It's like having a piece of you torn away..."

 

"I was thinking the same thing about James on the way here, on the train ride. And it will be next year already! I honestly don't know what I'll do with myself." He too took a drink and gazed down at the face of his best friend, cheeks reddened because of the wine, brown eyes looking back at him with the same fervent adoration and comradery as he looked down at her. "It feels good to know I'm not alone..." They were both silent for a long minute before Harry mumbled out an "I'm tired." Hermione nodded in agreement and took his wine glass into her other hand, setting both on the coffee table in front of them.

 

"Let's sleep then, while we can," Hermione whispered as she pulled a pillow towards them. Harry lay his head on it and stretched his legs on top of the sofa. Hermione lay down and snuggled against him, her back to his chest as the two quickly dozed off, his arm protectively encircling her waist. The only sounds in the house being the soft hooting coming from Perdita on her favorite spot on the shelf and the muffled sound of the movie the children were watching in the bedroom upstairs.

 


	5. A Night in the House

James Sirius Potter loved his aunt Hermione's house because it had _her_ written all over it. Floor to ceiling bookshelves painted white or pale cornflower blue were scattered about the house, all of them full to the brim with titles the older witch knew by heart, as well as knickknacks, antiques, and heirlooms. Muggle photographs were neatly framed and hanging on the walls, as well as paintings his aunt had collected over the years and on her travels. The pictures were what caught James' attention the most though, especially the ones in black and white, which was a bit strange to James who was used to moving, colored magical pictures. They were mostly shots of Aunt Hermione's trips, of her with her parents, her old cat Crookshanks, her Hogwarts days... James had even seen his father, mother, aunt Luna and even uncle Ron featured in quite a few of them. Of course, there were also pictures of his cousins Rose and Hugo from the time they were babies up until Albus and Rose's joint birthday in the Burrow last month.

 

James, however, had been surprised to find a single magical photograph framed on top of aunt Hermione's work desk when she had asked him to fetch a pen and paper yesterday— a picture of a younger aunt Hermione smiling brightly and looking down lovingly at a sleeping baby that was cradled in her arms. At first glance James had assumed it was either Hugo or Rose, but had been surprised when she'd caught him staring and informed him that the picture was taken the day she first met him at St. Mungo's, right after James had been born.

 

"You were the sweetest little thing James, you still are." She had said and had run her fingers through his dark hair, leaning down to gently press her lips to his forehead. James took comfort in his aunt's embraces, caresses, and pampering—he found that it made him feel a lot better, it made him feel safe and loved, in a certain way that he hadn't felt since his mother had still been alive. Despite this, aunt Hermione was completely different from James' mum. Aunt Hermione was a mama bear, both fierce and affectionate and James felt comfortable being alone with her and just talking or sharing his thoughts and feelings. His aunt never seemed to be lacking in the interest of what he did or said, or pretending to listen while in her mind she was thinking of other things. James liked that about her.

 

Aunt Hermione's house was three stories high if you counted the attic bedroom belonging to Rose and on the outside, it was painted a light blue, but the front door and window shutters were a beautiful shade of red. James liked the place very much. It wasn't as large as Grimmauld Place where he lived, but for some reason, he felt much more at ease here even if with all seven of them under the same roof it could get crowded, loud and chaotic at times. The boy decided he liked the house because of its smell, a pleasant blend of ocean, old books, leather and the vanilla scent which he knew belonged to his aunt. The Potters had been here with aunt Hermione nearly a week and to James, the time had been passing far too quickly, he didn't want the summer to end and wanted even less to return to London and Grimmauld.

 

The second floor of the house was practically a corridor with four doors, a flight of stairs going down, another going up into the attic, and a large bay window with yet another window seat that overlooked the ocean and a part of St. Julian's chapel at the shore, which inundated the small space with light. The first door to the left was Hermione's room that had it's own bathroom inside, overlooking the street with its stone paved road and colorful row houses. Next to it was Hugo's bedroom which the little boy was now sharing with Lily. The first door to the right was the guest bedroom, right across from aunt Hermione's, where James, Albus, and their dad had set up camp, Dad and Albus on the double bed and James on the single mattress on the floor. The final door led to a bathroom, which James really liked because when he bathed in the tub he could perfectly see the beach below and he could just sit there for hours looking at the different boats and the people enjoying their summer day, pretending he lived on a lighthouse.

 

James found himself bored with the movie they had been made to watch although his younger siblings and cousins seemed to disagree as they were deeply engrossed in their _Peter Pan_ movie, hoping for the evil Captain Hook's defeat. James slipped out of his aunt's large and soft iron bed and quietly left the room, the other kids completely oblivious to his departure. He descended the stairs and could already hear loud music and singing coming from the kitchen, the yellow lights casting upon the darkness of the living room as the sun had already gone down and the adults hadn't bothered to flick the lights on. James didn't bother either and when he peeked into the large kitchen he saw his aunt singing her heart out to a song he'd never heard before, his dad sitting on one of the chairs surrounding the long wooden table laughing in a way that James hadn't seem him laugh in a long time as he peeled a pile of potatoes the muggle way.

 

" _Life is a Ca-ba-ret!_ " he heard aunt Hermione finishing her song loudly and dramatically, along with the singer whose voice came from her laptop placed on top of the kitchen counter. His father clapped with a silly smile etched to his face as she curtsied and thanked her invisible audience, cheeks turning bright pink when her eyes caught sight of James staring at her, wearing an expression of amusement.

 

"What song is that, aunt 'Mione?" Hermione smiled.

 

"That, kind sir is Cabaret, sung by the one and only Liza Minelli, queen of Broadway along with Barbra Streisand." The confusion etched on James' face made his father roll his eyes and pull the chair next to him for the boy to sit.

 

"It's a song from a muggle musical film and play, James. Liza Minelli is the artist who performs this song and as you can see aunt Hermione is a big fan." James nodded, now understanding. "Is your movie over?" James shook his head.

 

"I got bored with it, but the others seem to like it." Hermione seemed to be seasoning a large bowl of meat that she would later grill for dinner when she looked at James.

 

"Jamie, grab the black pepper for me over there, love?" James got up from his chair and did as asked. He would never understand why aunt Hermione wouldn't just accio the things in the kitchen with her wand or say a bunch of spells like grandma Molly did so the knives could cut, peel and chop and the dishes would wash themselves to avoid all the hassle. "Thank you." She seemed to be humming another tune as she went about the kitchen and asked Harry if he thought he'd finish with the potatoes in time for Sunday, which amused James greatly as Sunday was still several days away. "Oh, but honestly, the downside of magic is that everyone gets so _bloody_ lazy!" She cried in exasperation, rolling her eyes as she rinsed her hands on the sink.

 

Harry chuckled at her antics and winked at James as he pulled his wand out of his pants pockets and in a split second the knives were peeling the God-forsaken potatoes by themselves. He got up from his seat and stretched, yawning lazily as if to spite Hermione, who in return rolled her eyes again, something James noticed she did a lot of until she acquiesced and chuckled, unable to stay annoyed at her best friend.

 

James couldn't quite remember a single moment where his mum and dad were together in the kitchen. Usually, it was one or the other who cooked, exclusively alone, because Harry had his way of doing things and Ginny had her own. The few times they had attempted to cook together had been a disaster, ending with the food not being nearly as perfect and the two angrily bickering and complaining about and to one another. The boy watched with interest as his father loaded a large pan full of water onto the lit stove and carefully threw the peeled potatoes inside, while aunt Hermione set the meet outside and began to prepare a leafy salad with some grated carrots and zucchini and olives thrown into the mix. In a small bowl she squeezed half a lemon, olive oil and threw in a bunch of spices, some water and a pinch of salt for the salad dressing and not one moment did his aunt and dad become truly angry with one another or complain. But then again, it was no secret to anyone that the duo had always made a perfect team.

 

**-/-**

 

The entire household was now gathered around the wooden table and aunt Hermione had put some soft music in the background, Greek instrumental music or something, but it certainly was nice and set the mood.

 

The adults ate dinner accompanied with a glass of red wine each while the children drank fresh orange juice with their meal.

 

"Mum, can we visit the castle tomorrow?" Rose asked, raising her voice a bit since Hugo and Lily were conversing loudly and enthusiastically around her.

 

"I don't see why not, Rosie, maybe Granny Nell and Granddad could take you lot up there with uncle Harry, I'm afraid I have to be at the bookshop tomorrow." Hermione shared a look with Harry who sat across from her, who simply nodded and shrugged, letting her know that he didn't mind at all. "My parents are terrific guides!" Rose smiled brightly at the prospect, she loved visiting the castle and getting to explore their little town as much as she could, Hermione detecting in her daughter a little historian in the making. "Hugo, Lily—let's use our inside voices please, we're all sitting around the table together." She said, snapping her fingers to gain the two youngest children's attention, which she succeeded in.

 

"Yes, mummy." Hermione shook her head and grinned at Hugo, winking at him and at Lily.

 

"James, Albie, you both are quiet tonight, excited to explore the castle tomorrow?" Harry asked minutes later, while Hermione flicked her wand to have all the dishes removed from the table and stacked neatly inside the sink. She opened her freezer and pulled out a tub of chocolate chip ice cream and summoned seven bowls and spoons. She placed the dessert on top of the table and the little kids especially were eager for the treat.

 

"Yes, daddy. Just tired..." Albus informed him, yawning right after as if to prove a point. They'd had a very eventful and tiring day indeed, what with all the running, swimming and playing they did at the beach. Hermione stood behind Albus and ran her fingers through his dark messy curls, running her knuckles gently against his cheek. Albus leaned into her touch almost purring like a kitten and she smiled with satisfaction as he leaned his head against her. She continued to caress his hair as he smiled contentedly and Harry wondered where on earth she had gained the superpowers to completely captivate and bewitch every single Potter, to the point where they worshiped the floor that she walked upon. "Aunt 'Mi, I don't think I'll hear much of your story today," he mumbled releasing another yawn. She chuckled and kissed the top of his head tenderly.

 

"That's all right, baby. You go put on your pajamas now," she instructed and he, of course, did what he was told. Hermione sat back on her chair and immediately Lily and Hugo climbed up on her lap and Harry didn't know how she could fit both in her arms. They weren't about to have her fussing over Albus and not give them her cares and attention as well. Five minutes of caresses and Eskimo kisses later, Harry found himself carrying the sleeping five-year-olds upstairs and helping them into their pajamas as Hermione threw the empty tub of ice cream away, made sure all the doors and windows were locked and ushered a still wide awake Rose and James upstairs to get ready for bed. She tucked them both in and then entered her bedroom where she changed into her silk ivory-colored pajama pants and loose sleeveless top. Harry had kissed each of the five children goodnight and made sure each and every one of them was comfortable and warm enough. He entered the guest room he shared with Albus and James and changed into his sleeping clothes, careful as not to wake them and then slipped into the bed next to Al. He turned on his side and stared at the digital clock perched on the bedside table. He saw as five minutes turned into fifteen and then into thirty and sleep didn't come. He sighed and grabbed his wand that was under his pillow, about to cast his Patronus to send a message to Hermione, who he knew to probably still be awake when he heard the soft creaking of his bedroom door opening and saw her motioning with her hand for him to follow her.

 

No different from the children of the house, he followed her lead, straight into her bedroom across the hall.

 

**-/-**

 

They lay side by side on her bed facing each other. She had snuggled her way into his arms until her head rested on his shoulder, his arm wrapped around her. She had flung an arm around his chest and her fingers played with his beard as they lay together in complete silence, the room dark except for the dim yellow light of a candle on top of Hermione's dresser, that released the homey scent of vanilla that she carried.

 

"You're spoiling us rotten..." he said finally, breaking the comfortable silence and she softly shook her head and grinned slightly. "It's wonderful but will also make returning home difficult..." he admitted, quietly.

 

"I'll miss you and the children too, Harry. You know I always have..." She responded, finally. "I miss this sense of peace and security I get from having you around, even though I know from experience that being with you doesn't come without its adventures." Her fingers trailed away from his beard and grazed the back of his neck and year before curling the edges of his dark locks around her finger, eliciting goosebumps on his skin, the pleasant kind. His breath hitched and Hermione smiled victoriously.

 

Harry's mind suddenly diverted to another night many years ago inside a cold tent in the forest of dean, when it had been just the two of them inside a tent because Ron had left and he tried to be strong for them both, because her grief, sadness, and sacrifices had finally become unbearable with the departure of their friend and the redhead young man she loved. The two of them had shared a dance to Beethoven's music on the wireless, bodies close for heat and comfort, but even then, Harry now realized he could feel the sparks he felt for her, the rush and heat of his blood underneath his skin when she touched him, the soothing effect of her warmth and loving touches.

 

Harry had been a married man and despite their moments and occasional rows, he had been completely faithful to his wife Ginny and had completely hidden that specific memory in a deep, dark and inaccessible compartment of his brain, so that he wouldn't plague himself with the silly 'what if's'. But laying here in her arms, just the two of them in the dark, no danger surrounding them, he realized that for the first time in sixteen years they were both romantically available and perhaps maybe this time he could allow his mind to dwell on the 'what if' of something, a relationship, a bond, a love that went deeper than just friendship.

 

"Harry?" She whispered softly, a certain energy shifting in the room surrounding them. He opened his eyes which he hadn't even realized had been shut and what had been revealed to her were pupils dilated with only a thin ring of emerald circling them. She could feel the fast intensity of his heartbeat under her arm. Her cheeks and torso flushed profusely and suddenly a small cool breeze invaded the bedroom from the crack in her window and suddenly she was hyper-aware of the nipples that had hardened at the combination of that contact and the look in his eyes, the very nipples that were covered by a barely-there layer of silk fabric and the thin gray cotton of his shirt. Their eyes locked for what felt one long electrifying moment. Her breath hitched and so did his and then he felt the tips of his fingers wrapped around her back and her upper arm slightly moving until she was certain those very fingertips grazed the curve of her breast that had been hidden beneath her arm. She shivered with pleasure and the oxygen completely escaped her lungs. He saw it, the flicker of pleasure and also danger in her brown eyes, her pupils also dilating with arousal. 1, 2, 3, seconds passed and she felt it again, his fingertips grazing her breast. Before she knew it her arm had almost involuntarily pulled his head towards hers and for the first time in the twenty-three years they had known each other and never dared to cross the uncharted boundary of friendship and something more... they kissed. Hungrily, intensely, their lips battling for dominance and finally their tongues.

 

Hermione's hand tugged on the collar of his shirt, pulling him ever closer, on top of her, her perfect, elegant and curvy long legs wrapping around him, trying to pull him ever nearer. His fingers reveled in the softness of her skin and finally wandered under that sexy and tempting silk top, sliding adoringly up until finally they touched her full round breasts that for a long time he had secretly fantasized about. Hermione could feel even now the bulge in his trousers, his hard member that pressed and rubbed against her that wanted nothing more but to be freed from its fabric constraints, into her touch, inside her womanhood. His lips kissed and suckled at that spot she loved under her earlobe while his left hand kneaded her breast and the other supported his weight against the mattress. She busied her hands with removing his shirt, which she threw across the bedroom and their lips met again, passionately. He was about to free her from the restraints of her own shirt when suddenly Hermione's bedroom door flew open and her eyes registered the sleepy and then shocked eyes of both Rose and Albus. The two adults quickly and instinctively untangled from one another and Hermione pulled the duvet up to cover any indecencies. They'd been lucky enough to have been covered by the sheets, except for Harry's discarded shirt, their pajamas were still on.

 

Hermione's mortified eyes met with those of her daughter's, wide-eyed, whose lips began to tremble and then retreated back to her room upstairs. Hermione mentally cursed herself for being so stupid, she should have put up a privacy spell, she knew that sometimes Rose would get scared of sleeping by herself in her attic bedroom and sometimes came down to join her mother... She'd ruined everything, she now realized, her strictly friends relationship with Harry and now...

 

Harry cursed under his breath and followed an angry looking Albus back into the bedroom across the hall, the bedroom he perhaps should never have wandered away from. He shot Hermione a look of apology as he left, while she simply lay there body still humming from all the sexual arousal but only regret floating around her mind. She sighed heavily and dragged herself into her bathroom where she splashed some cool water on her face, dried it on a towel and made her way upstairs where an upset Rose lay in bed, clearly upset as her little back faced the door.

 

"Rose, I'm sorry..." Hermione started and attempted to run a gentle hand through her daughter's rust-colored curls. "I was irresponsible and made a mistake, I'm sorry..." Hermione felt her own lips tremble now and soon there were tears pooling in her eyes. "Mums make mistakes too, you know?" Hermione whispered and sat on the edge of her daughter's bed, crying into her own hands. Rose shifted and turned over to look at her mother, eyes puffy from having cried out of shock. The sweet little girl found it impossible to hold a grudge against her mother and sat up, crawling towards Hermione and hooking her arm with hers, lacing their fingers together.

 

"It's okay, mummy. Please don't be sad..." She whispered, protectively. Hermione pulled her beautiful, intelligent bighearted daughter into her arms and hugged her.

 

"I love you Rose Helena Granger-Weasley..." Rose flinched at the use of her full name, "Merlin, what a mouthful!" Hermione exclaimed, lightning the mood and making Rose giggle as they held each other.

 


	6. The Grangers

" ** _Your friend is your board and your fireside, for you come to [her] in hunger and you seek [her] to have peace." - Khalil Gibran_**

 

Hermione had left bright and early for the bookshop and Harry couldn't help but think that she was avoiding him after the "incident" last night. He'd spent a good hour calming Albus as he cried, begging him to forgive his father in whispers, caressing the boy's raven locks and time and again repeating that no, he hadn't forgotten about mum. He decided to prepare a treat of pancakes for the children this morning, in the hopes that the sugar would help to cheer Rose and Albus up and keep them from sharing looks and staring at Harry with suspicion as they were now...

 

As he hummed an old muggle tune while he flipped a series of pancakes Harry thanked Merlin, that at least James, Hugo, and Lily were completely oblivious to him snogging Hermione last night and were acting perfectly normal, James and Lily the most excited for their visit to the castle ruins. Hermione's parents would be here at any moment and Harry didn't even know how he'd be able to look at and shake Laurence and Helena Granger's hands after being inappropriately intimate with their daughter the night before. Butterflies somersaulted in his stomach just at the thought of last night and he recalled the warmth and the delicious taste and texture of Hermione's lips and tongue against his. Not a part of him regretted it, but he did feel guilty for upsetting the children and his best friend herself. Hermione had always been there for him, the two of them fighting and sticking together—countless times Hermione had sacrificed her own happiness and well-being in order to support him. Harry honestly wondered to what extent last night's events had been true attraction and desire between them, or if it had just been Hermione trying to make him feel better. His heart ached because he felt like he used her, took advantage of her unfaltering friendship and loyalty. In a way, he was relieved that she'd be at work most of the day because he didn't think he could face her yet.

 

Harry had just served the last batch of pancakes to Hugo who had inherited his father's voracious appetite when the red front door flew open revealing the two Granger grandparents, dressed effortlessly elegant as ever, Helena having put her mop of gray curls up in a messy up-do, curls framing her smiling features beautifully. It was amazing how Hermione looked like her mother, although his best friend's height, grace, and mannerisms had been inherited from her father. The children abandoned their meals, even the Potters, and ran to engulf the older couple in hugs while Helena made sure to kiss each one. Seeing them was always brilliant, but it still brought a slight pang to Harry's heart because his children would never be able to run into the loving arms of his own parents and when he thought of Lily and James Potter—the firsts—he always thought of them being a lot like the Grangers, except his father would certainly be a terrible influence. He couldn't help but smile wistfully at the thought.

 

"Good morning, Harry, love," Helena said as the children scattered about once again, some running upstairs to finish getting ready and brush their teeth as Mr. Granger ordered and others sitting down again to finish breakfast. She kissed both of Harry's cheeks before sitting down while Laurence gave Harry a pat on the shoulder, shyly uttering a 'hello' and kept busy by clearing the table from plates, mugs, and cutlery. "I see the kids are awfully excited for our little adventure today..." trailed off.

 

"It's all they've been talking about, Nell," Harry told her as he put a spell on the dishes in the sink to wash themselves. He saw Helena chuckling at this.

 

"I wish I could do that!" She exclaimed, her cheeks turning a light shade of pink. "I was wondering if you're still up for having dinner at our's tonight?"

 

"Oh, I wouldn't miss it for the world!" This comment brought a huge smile to Helena's face and she shared a look with Laurence. "Have you said anything to Hermione, yet?"

 

"Oh, it's fine Harry, that daughter of mine will take any opportunity to escape the stove!" Harry chuckled at this knowing it was perfectly true. Hermione wasn't the most enthusiastic chef, but no one could say she wasn't efficient and successful in following a recipe from the numerous cookbooks in her kitchen, but with the busy schedule she had between the bookshop, the kids, and her research, the least of her priorities was cooking, not when there was the possibility of takeout, dining out or Nell Granger's good graces.

 

"How have you taken to Tenby, Harry?" Laurence asked after a while, a dishcloth now hanging over a shoulder as he leaned against the kitchen counter. That moment Lily and Hugo came running back in, the girl's bright ginger curls all over the place as she plopped into the lap of Granny Nell as she called her, the older woman wrapping her arms around Lily who leaned back into her tenderly. Harry wasn't blind to the fact that his children were completely smitten with the Grangers, just like he knew Helena was in love with his three children as she tickled Lily's side and pecked her on the cheek, calling her sweet baby. Hugo was now leaning against his grandfather, his head of ginger curls leaning against his side as he quietly listened to the conversation.

 

"It's honestly lovely here, Laurence, the beaches, and the colorful houses, the neighbors. I think it's a lot more inviting than London, obviously, and of course we all have been having a great deal of fun, isn't that right, Hugo?" The boy nodded and smiled at his uncle, brown eyes identical to those of his mother's shining brightly.

 

"Uncle Harry, when are we leaving for the castle?" He asked quietly. Harry chuckled and ruffled his hair.

 

"Hopefully now, as soon as your sister and cousins come back down." The boy nodded.

 

"Well, it is a lovely place indeed. After Helena and I lived in Australia that time, we really grew attached to the ocean and having that view. It has such a calming and peaceful effect, I think, just by watching the waves crash into the sand... When we returned to England after Hermione, came for us," Harry noticed the subtle hint of lamentation and sadness in the older man's voice, "we missed it, a lot. So when we finally were able to retire we started looking for places to live by the ocean here in England, Helena refused to even look at places in France, she didn't want to be too far from Hermione you see, especially with Rose and Hugo being so small and everything... We've unfortunately spent too much time apart as it is." Harry nodded, understanding Laurence's words, imagining himself living so distant, physically and emotionally, from his children. He shuddered at the thought.

 

"And how did you come across Tenby?"

 

"We were in Cardiff for my cousin's 40th Wedding anniversary celebration and we decided to take the opportunity to travel about. We hired a car and spent a wonderful few days on the road, each night in a different town and different bed and breakfast, until we finally got here and instantly felt like not leaving." Mr. Granger explained with a little smile. "It's funny because we had never stepped foot here and felt like we had walked these same streets before, that it was where we belonged. Isn't that right, love?" Helena nodded.

 

"I told Laurence I had the same feeling and that same morning we found a small real estate agency and bought our home."

 

"Where is your home, exactly?" Laurence and Helena both smiled as they shared a look.

 

"Why, Harry, we live in the flat above Hermione's bookshop!" Helena informed him with a laugh, not believing that Hermione had forgotten to disclose that very important detail. "It's small and cozy, but perfect for just the two of us. To be honest, I wanted it so badly because of the shop below, I had this dream that Hermione would one day open her own bookshop here, it was her greatest desire as a little girl, before Hogwarts, that is." Harry smiled at this revelation and remembered the first time he had been to the yellow and stone Sea Otter Book Café, and how instantly he'd come to the conclusion that it was Hermione's own version of paradise. "When she and Ron broke up, she came here for the summer, obviously we said nothing to her about our intentions, but when she entered the dusty old shop, that very moment she told me, 'Mum, how much are you renting this for?'". Helena's eyes were teary as she recalled that moment, her daughter had been heartbroken at the time and no mother could stand seeing her child, big or smile, hurting in such a way.

 

"And she decided to stay." Harry completed, to which Helena nodded.

 

"It was rather bittersweet because we hadn't been expecting for things to happen in such sad circumstances, she was at such a low point because of the divorce..." Helena looked at the expression on her little grandson's face and came to a realization. She stopped speaking for a moment and Harry watched as her expression changed from one of sadness to one of joy and excitement. "...but that's all over now and everyone is so happy now! Rose and Hugo love going to school and to the beach, they can see Granny and Granddad whenever they want, Mummy is happy, the bookshop's beautiful and even your dad and Luna are happy, aren't they, Hugh?" The boy smiled at her words and nodded vigorously.

 

"Yes, Granny!" Laurence ruffled Hugo's curls and smiled down at him proudly. That moment the older kids came down, ready and excited to go. Rose held the front door open while an animated James pulled his dad by the hand and the Potters and Grangers made their way out of the blue row house, onto the cobblestoned street and went on their long walk towards the medieval castle overlooking the sea.

 

…

 

Three hours later Hermione was rearranging the books in the philosophy section when her phone vibrated in her pocket notifying her of a new message. Hermione checked it and saw that it was a text from her mother informing her that she was at the Castle with Hermione's father, Harry and the children and that afterwards, they would all have a big dinner at her flat upstairs. Oblivious to what had happened between her daughter and Harry, Helena Granger even sent her some pictures she had taken on her phone of the kids having fun, Harry and Laurence Granger trying to make the energetic kids stay still and look presentable. Despite everything, Hermione smiled wistfully at the pictures of them, the people she loved most in this world. The hours continued to drag on, the bookshop busy as ever, but despite Hermione's lack of 'spirit' today she had at least surpassed the day's sales goal before it was even lunch time.

 

At about 4 o'clock the shop was finally quiet except for a few people here and there quietly enjoying a coffee or a read, sprawled across the armchairs and window seats scattered about. Hermione was just taking a seat on the sofa in front of the large fireplace with a cup of tea of her own when she heard the door's bell ring announcing someone's arrival inside. A few seconds later she felt a gentle tap on her shoulder. Hermione turned to see who it was in surprise and sighed in relief when she saw the smiling face of, Regina Butterfield, who Hermione noticed was accompanied by Rose's teacher Louisa, a friend of Hermione's and a witch herself, standing behind her.

 

"Hermione, how have you been, darling? You've disappeared from our weekly meetings..." Regina admonished lightly with a knowing smile as she plopped down next to the bushy-haired woman on the sofa.

 

"Fine, thank you, Regina," Hermione said with a warm smile and an overly dramatic roll of her eyes. "And it was _one_ meeting, you've barely had time to miss me!" She watched as Louisa took a seat next to her, as quiet as she always was and the two shared a smile. "Hi, Lou, haven't seen you in a while!" Hermione and Louisa pecked cheeks amicably while Regina tactfully cast a _muffliato_ spell so they could have more privacy.

 

"I was at Hogwarts the past two weeks doing teacher's training..." She turned to her large handbag and pulled out a tin box not too different from the ones Hermione remembered seeing full of knickknacks at her grandparents' house. "Professor McGonagall asked me to pass these on to you." Hermione took it and thanked her graciously, resting the tin on her lap.

 

"Hermione—I've honestly been smacking myself silly the past few days!" Regina exclaimed changing the subject entirely, not too different from how Molly Weasley would. "I honestly must really be getting old... Can you believe I only connected the dots as to who you were, 1/3 of the golden trio, the brains behind You-Know-Who's defeat when I stumbled upon Harry Potter himself with his children and yours the other day? Honestly, I'm dreadful and I think on behalf of everyone in Tenby and the TMA I must say I'm honored to be such an incredible heroine's friend and neighbor." Hermione blushed profusely at Regina, who wrapped her arms around her in a tight hug, Louisa chuckled and just rolled her eyes at the woman's antics. She did notice however that Hermione's smile wasn't quite reaching her eyes today and made a mental note to speak with her about it in private later. The three women exchanged small talk and spoke of the events of the meeting for another ten or fifteen minutes when Regina checked her phone for the time and excused herself to grab her order of two cappuccinos and chocolate filled croissants to take home for tea time. She bid the two younger witches goodbye with a matronly kiss on each one's cheek, leaving Hermione and Louisa finally alone to talk.

 

Hermione waited for the door to shut behind Regina and turned to face Louisa hastily.

 

"Now spill, _please_." She urged, desperate to occupy her mind with something other than Harry Potter or any other Potters for that matter.

 

"Hermione, Professor McGonagall and I have been pouring over the reports and numbers you sent on the research the past few days. She received some information from inside the Ministry that they have been keeping an eye on Tenby the past two months. Regina could be receiving an Auror visit, or notification any day now on behalf of the TMA and I don't know what to do..." Louisa as of a year had been included in Hermione and Minerva McGonagall's research because as a native Tenbian she knew everyone in town and was always an active participant in the meetings and decision-making processes. As a teacher at the local primary school that catered to muggle, squib and wizard children alike, she was also often in touch with the families and had an insight that Hermione lacked when it came to the local family dynamics. "You know that in just a few months the members of the magical parliament and Wizengamot both will be casting votes on who will succeed Shacklebolt as Minister and you know as well as I do that most eyes are set on Theodore Nott and we both know he has a history of death eater relatives and he's not exactly a supporter of Shacklebolt's progressive reforms." Hermione sighed heavily at the thought. "You know, it actually makes me think that had you not left the ministry to come here you'd be Shacklebolt's successor, but honestly..."

 

"I don't want to even dwell on that, Lou. I _am_ still young, there's plenty of time for me to return to the ministry in the future if I choose to when my children are older and in Hogwarts maybe. Merlin knows I receive invitations almost monthly..." Hermione trailed off with weariness. She grasped Louisa's hand and squeezed it as a gesture of comfort and comradery. "Lou, I dedicated an entire decade of my life to the improvement of the ministry and our world's legislation, I fulfilled every single one of my goals there and I'm proud of myself. I've told you time and again why I left, we've talked about this, and I don't understand why you keep bringing it up..." Hermione sighed and tucked a loose curl behind her ear, as she looked at the dark-skinned younger witch before her, so idealistic and full of energy, in a way that reminded Hermione of herself. Louisa sighed and was quiet for a minute but rolled her eyes, relenting.

 

"I'm sorry, Hermione... I've been really stressed with this news of the ministry finding out and I'm scared for our future and our lives. What if we are accused of, _Merlin forbid_ , being traitors and are sentenced to Azkaban?" She had a look of pure terror in her dark eyes and for a moment Hermione pitied her. "I've been unable to sleep at night since McGonagall told me and of course I've been going through another issue too..."

 

"Louisa! We are _not_ doing anything wrong, understand? We are researchers—you are a primary school teacher, I am a bookshop owner, that's all. Honestly, you shouldn't be losing sleep on this matter, not yet at least!" Hermione admonished, using the same authoritative tone she sometimes used with Rose and Hugo and even Harry and Ron as she recalled, especially in their school days. She felt Louisa relax a bit with her words and release a shaky breath. Hermione took her friend's hand in hers once again and squeezed it reassuringly. With her voice lower and more gentle she added, "I'll write to McGonagall tonight to see if she's been able to gain more information. We might have to let Regina in on this research of ours soon... Everything will be okay." Louisa nodded quietly and Hermione didn't mind that the Hufflepuff witch downed the rest of her lukewarm tea in one go.

 

Hermione smartly changed the focus of the conversation to the staff at Hogwarts and all the gossip that entailed. Louisa shared that Neville Longbottom replaced Pomona Sprout as Herbology professor and was smitten with the new American muggle studies professor, a gorgeous muggle-born named Melissa Redmond whose subject seemed to—in the first time in Hogwarts history—have a long list of young witches and wizards signing up for it, so much so that Redmond now has two separate classes for each of the 4th, 5th, 6th and 7th years and even convinced McGonagall of installing a computer lab and movie screen in her classroom.

 

"Hmm, Andromeda Tonks is still the charms professor but was recently made the head of Slytherin house as professor Slughorn is gradually lessening his responsibilities in preparation for his retirement. Padma Patil is teaching Potions to the first three years while she continues to be Slughorn's apprentice and Parvati was made the new divination professor as of September, not a big surprise considering the Patil twins are inseparable and they do say she is a true Seer."

 

"How great, a letter to Andromeda is actually long overdue. Is Parvati still with Dean Thomas?" Louisa nodded with a smile.

 

"They live at Hogwarts together and he opened his own art studio in Hogsmeade, they have a baby boy named Ravi, he's the cutest thing Hermione and is beginning to walk already..."

 

"That's a beautiful age," Hermione said with the shadow of a smile, "they grow up so fast, Louisa, I hardly believe Rose is already eight years old and Hugo's not my baby anymore..." Hermione pulled out her phone and looked at the time, brown eyes going wide. "Oh Merlin, Louisa, I have to close up shop now—my mum's expecting us for dinner in two hours."

 

"That's fine, Hermione. It was good talking to you, got a bit of the weight off of my shoulders, We've been so stressed out lately..." Hermione nodded.

 

"That reminds me, I didn't even ask you about Susan—how are you both doing? I noticed she's been awfully quiet these days..." Susan was the usually goofy and talkative business partner of Hermione's who for the most part ran the café. Susan with her bright blue hair and friendly dark eyes had with time become close friends and romantic partner to Louisa and now the two beautiful women shared a flat along with Susan's son Sebastian.

 

"Things are fine between us, but not so fine with her ex-husband—he's remarried, _the bugger_ , and has filed for custody of Sebastian. Sue's been all tears the past week, but my older brother is a fantastic lawyer and has agreed to represent us." Hermione's smile fell with this bit of news and her heart broke for Susan who was so attached and devoted to her little boy. Susan was living every divorced mother's fear and private hell.

 

Despite her amicable relationship with Ron and years' long friendship with Luna that had strengthened during the time they were captive together at Malfoy Manor and then with the years after, there had been times where Hermione seriously feared Ron would take the children from her, especially when the fact that Hermione had been absent the children's early lives due to work weighed so much against her. Hermione had distanced herself from Ron after the divorce and she hated to admit it, from Luna as well after they had told her they were in love and intended to marry two years. It was just weird for Hermione to have her closest female friend marrying her ex and though she loved Luna dearly and supported their marriage, things did become a bit awkward between them. But four years had passed and they had never had trouble when it came to sharing time with the kids and Ron along with Luna had only ever been understanding and supportive. Hermione dreaded having to go through the same pain and fear Susan was probably experiencing and made a mental note to call her later and maybe pass by at her flat to give her a hug.

 

"If you two need anything you can count on me—please tell her that, Lou. If Susan ever needs any kind of support, be it a few weeks off, financial or I don't know, for me to testify on her behalf, anything, I'm here." Louisa nodded and hugged Hermione tight, happy to have someone on their side.

 

…

 

Hermione cleaned up with the handy use of charms and spells and in no time found herself locking up the windows and doors and walking back home. The sun was setting in the horizon coloring the people and houses in a warm orange hue. The wind carried the salty scent of the ocean and if she listened very carefully she could hear the waves crashing in the distance. She was worried now—about the Aurors coming to Tenby and the impending elections, about what happened between her and Harry last night and how her whole body ached to feel his touch again, but it was wrong in so many levels. She worried about what was now going on with Susan and the risk of her son being taken away from her... She felt the cold feeling of fear creep into her bones and heart, a feeling of insecurity that sometimes resurfaced to bother her peace and made her believe that for some reason she would lose her son and daughter to Ron.

 

The rational part of her brain assured her, most days, that there was no way her former husband would file for custody, not when he had Rose and Hugo for two weeks during summer break, during the entire spring break, and for Christmas up until New Year's Day. They'd also come to celebrate the birthdays on neutral ground, the Burrow, where all friends and family could be present and almost always allowed the children to attend the Weasley family events. During the school year, Ron had Rose and Hugo on alternate weekends, national holidays and he and Luna had them for the afternoon and dinner every Wednesday night, where Louisa herself, Rose's teacher, would apparate the siblings to their father's house. Ron and Luna were always invited to parent-teacher meetings and school events and not once had Hermione opposed to this, on the contrary. They were always friendly towards one another and it was quite nice to have other people to share the load and responsibilities with. Hermione couldn't think of an arrangement more suitable considering they lived in entirely different cities, yet sometimes her faith faltered, such as now.

 

She saw the lights were on in her house from the windows looking out to the street and smiled. After the day she had all she wanted was to hug her children tight and take a nice long bath in her tub, to wash the worries away. Before she could even reach the door handle to enter the door open wide and Hugo and Lily greeted Hermione, all smiles, almost knocking her over with their overly enthusiastic hugs. Despite the combined weight of two five-year-olds she managed to lift them up and not snap her back and snuggled them tight, kissing each on the forehead.

 

"Oh, I missed you two today..." She said, as she put them down and Lily pulled her by the skirt inside while Hugo ran back upstairs mumbling God knows what.

 

"'Mione, daddy doesn't know how to braid my hair..." Lily complained, "and Rosie doesn't know either, even though she is a girl." Hermione chuckled and plopped on the sofa, kicking off her shoes. She motioned for Lily who was already dressed for the Grangers' dinner to bring her the comb and stand in front of her and thus she began to lovingly comb the girl's bright ginger hair, being especially careful when untangling the knots. When she finished she divided Lily's hair into three parts and began to neatly braid her hair. In the end, Hermione conjured a black velvet bow to tie the end of the braid and admired her job well done.

 

"There you go Lily, you look beautiful." Hermione complimented and the girl wrapped her little arms around Hermione's neck and thanked her, pressing a peck on Hermione's lips which surprised her. It was something so small, yet very intimate. Hermione remembered pecking her own mother's lips as a little child and doing the same with Rosie, although a little less now since she was a self-declared big girl and of course Hugo once in a while. "What was that for, Sparky?"

 

"Thank you, aunt 'Mi." She said and skipped away happily.

 

Moments later, as she was still buried in the sofa trying to find the courage to get up and get ready to leave Harry strolled in, smelling as nice as ever having put on some cologne and looking smart in dark trousers, leather black dress shoes and a dark blue sweater with white button-up underneath. She noticed how his hair was charmingly longer, hovering just below his earlobe and how utterly handsome and manly he looked with those black-framed glasses and his new beard. Hermione unconsciously bit her bottom lip and couldn't help but stare, brown eyes wide, appreciating the view. Harry wasn't oblivious to her reaction and chuckled in embarrassment, something that called her back to her senses after which she blushed heavily and looked away.

 

"Do I look good enough?" He asked, impishly and Hermione rolled her eyes knowing that he _knew_ very well that he did, but just wanted her to satisfy his ego a little more.

 

"Ugh Harry, you're such a _Leo_ sometimes..." He smiled at those words, the little lines that had begun to appear at the corner of his eyes beginning to crinkle even more, which made him even more attractive if that was even possible.

 

"Go get ready Hermione, we're due at your mum's in a half-hour... And you smell like a monkey." He added with a playful grin. He was the silly Harry who along with Ron would pester her all over again and Hermione found that she had really missed him. She practically jumped off the couch and playfully attempted to hit his arm at his words—which he would usually direct to the children who weren't excited for bath time and so even tired the way she was she was chasing after him around the living room, both of them laughing their heads off, cheeks red and chests heaving. He finally stopped, right in front of her desk where Perdita the owl was now perched and witnessing, a soft 'hoot' escaping her little beak and he held her by the upper arms in front of him, her curls wild and beautiful and eyes bright with mirth. Harry realized his heart beat heavily in his chest and it wasn't due to the running, but rather because of her and because of the way she made him feel alive again.

 

" _Mummy!_ " They heard Hugo's calling from all the way upstairs, "Mummy, I can't find my shoes!" the boy yelled and both adults seemed to snap out of their little moment and suddenly Hermione was blushing profusely and trying to rearrange her hair.

 

She pulled her wand out of her skirt's pocket and uttered _Accio_ blue crocs and suddenly the shoes appeared from different parts of the house and she grabbed them into her hands from thin air. She looked into Harry's green eyes, briefly, with what looked like apology and longing, before she turned around, her hair almost touching his face and went up the stairs to hand the boy his shoes and get into her shower.

 

Harry, on the other hand, stood there like an idiot, as though he'd almost been _stupefied_. All day he'd been dreading the very sight of her, but now, he realized, being with Hermione was just about all he wanted—to feel her touch, hear her loud and unapologetic laugh, her sarcastic comments and to see happiness and desire for him in those big brown eyes. It was a strange and utterly frightening realization—because in the over twenty-three years that Harry Potter had known and been friends with Hermione Granger, this was the first time in his life that he'd felt something entirely different and new for her and as wonderful as it seemed, it also scared him shitless.

 

…

 

They arrived at the Grangers' flat twenty minutes late through the floo that they surprisingly had functioning in their fireplaces and Laurence immediately gathered the children around the coffee table in the den, where muggle board games had been set out as well as chips and snacks inside ceramic bowls. As he read the instructions to Candy Land for them, Rose and Hugo knowing how to play it already, the children started playing and for the most part, it was all giggles and one or other accusation of cheating.

 

Harry had found himself in the kitchen, helping Helena Granger with the salad while Hermione had been given the task to set the table, which she did the muggle way, each fork and knife laid out with precision. Mr. Granger turned on his old record player and some very good blues music—Eric Clapton, Hermione said it was—sounded around the joint living and dining areas. Laurence popped a bottle of Chilean cabernet open and served a glass for each of the adults. Finished with the salad, Harry decided to find something to busy himself with before they all had to gather around the table to eat. The boeuf bourguignon was still cooking on the stove and Helena was putting the finishing touches on the dessert, treacle tart, which was Harry's absolute favorite. She informed him that she also had ice cream for the kids in the freezer as well and the only thing left to do was cook the rice. Harry volunteered to do it and chopped some garlic without the help of his wand in tiny pieces before throwing it into the designated pan which already had some cooking oil. He let the garlic fry until the strong and savory smell spread throughout the room and the pieces were golden, before throwing in the rice, giving it a little stir, throwing in a good amount of salt and finally adding the water and the lid.

 

Helena put away the desserts and turned to Harry with a knowing look in her eyes, not too different from how Hermione would look at him sometimes.

 

"Harry—how long will you all be staying here again?" Harry paused for a moment, not exactly knowing because it wasn't something he and Hermione had discussed or even decided upon. But they were definitely now entering their second week of stay.

 

"I'm not sure, Nell." He said, remembering how earlier in the day she had insisted with him to call her by her first name or nickname, rather than the _too formal_ Mrs. Granger. "At this point, I just hope we're not extending our stay too much, as to not disturb Hermione and the kids' summer..."

 

"Oh don't be silly, Harry," She said, waving her wooden cooking spoon in the air for dramatic effect. "I haven't seen Rose and Hugo this happy in a long time, Hermione too. Your presence here has been doing her worlds of good. Hermione has plenty of new friends here and has managed to make her life as busy as possible—you know how she is—but I do think the thing she missed most after moving here was your friendship. She told me, you know, _'Mummy, Harry is my best friend, he's the only person besides you who I can trust with anything, even my life'_. Hermione said that you know, those words exactly and if I hadn't given your relationship it's proper importance before, I did from then on... She was only fifteen. Being her mother it was quite scary—from the moment she met you in 1st year you became one of the most important people in her life... You know, her father and I were very surprised when she restored our memories and introduced Ron Weasley as her boyfriend to us, we always figured it would be you." Helena turned around and made to be slicing some baguettes to make into bruschettas for the entrée and spreading some olive oil on top.

 

And then she continued as Harry checked the rice for enough water: "I liked Ron Weasley, don't get me wrong. He was handsome in his own way and that sense of humor of his..." she smiled endearingly as though she were remembering a specific joke of Ron's, "It was so funny how clueless he was about our muggle way of life, and I cannot complain about his parenting skills—he was a wonderful father from day one, especially since in those days Hermione was almost never home and domestic chores were far from her list of priorities. Ron held everything together admirably, I don't think even Laurence would be able to do what he did... But what I mean to say is, we had expected her to bring _you_ home, Harry, because it seemed in those days that you were all she cared about—you were the center of her universe. Obviously, we didn't have much of a grasp that it was because of a war and an evil fascist, nazi wizard raging on and with designs to kill you— _that_ we learned of later, _much_ later." Helena turned to look at Harry whose brows had furrowed with her words, trying to understand what Helena Granger was trying to get at. "I don't think Hermione noticed at the time just how much she loved you, because sometimes that kind of realization comes later when one takes the time to process things... I know that she knows she loves you, but I don't think she's grasped at just in what way exactly she loves you. When her marriage ended, that was when she came to the realization that she loved Ron, but at the same time didn't love him how she should as his wife. It wasn't like how I love Laurence, or say, Juliet and Romeo loved each other, or, like Elizabeth Bennet loved Mr. Darcy or like how Helen of Sparta loved Paris of Troy so much she gave everything up for him... It wasn't like that, because that's how her father and I always thought she loved _you_." Helena Granger's brown eyes were gleaming with a fiery passion, with an unwavering belief in all of this information she had just dumped onto Harry, who stood there dumbfounded, trying to process her words. After a long moment of silence and the smell of burnt rice permeate the air, Harry rushed to pour more water in the pan before it was too late, while Helena watched him, equally dumbfounded that she had just shared all of that with Harry.

 

Harry faced the stove with his eyes locked on the pan of cooking rice that had almost been ruined, emerald green eyes startled and confused. What on earth did Mrs. Granger mean? His head began to ache all of the sudden and he gulped down the contents of the wine glass Laurence Granger had poured for him earlier, unable to face a madly blushing Helena.

 

Seconds later, she herself having downed her wine all at once she approached Harry and placed her soft hand on top of his on the counter, brown eyes looking pointedly into his.

 

"Did you understand what I said, Harry?" She asked and it was in that precise moment that Hermione walked into the kitchen wearing the elegant high-waisted black pants that were wide on the legs, black shirt tucked inside, it's sleeves having been pushed to Hermione's elbows. She wore deep red lipstick and simple diamond stud earrings—simple and yet mesmerizingly gorgeous as always.

 

"Understand what, mum?" Hermione asked, completely oblivious for a moment, thinking it was just idle chatter that had been taking place... Until she saw Harry's expression and furrowed her brows. " _Mum?_ Did you break Harry?" She asked, trying to crack a joke and lighten the mood, although the hoarse chuckle that followed wasn't all that amused.

 

Harry's eyebrows unfurrowed that moment and heat suddenly rose up to his cheeks which turned a bright crimson. Suddenly Hermione noticed his chest suddenly heave and vibrate and she realized he was silently laughing until he wasn't silent anymore. Helena looked at him as though he had grown a second head for a moment and soon Hermione had cracked a smile, feeling slightly tipsy already because she'd just consumed her third glass of wine and soon she was laughing heartily and she grabbed Harry's arm to keep her balance. Helena took a step back, and the laughter of the two was infectious, she didn't want to but found herself laughing as well until tears spilled from her eyes.

 

When it all died down and Hermione was still clutching her stomach because it had hurt so much she shared a look with Harry who pointed his chin to her mother and with a gesture of her hand asked why on earth they had been talking about in the first place.

 

"Your mum said you love me." Hermione's amused grin faltered and she looked at her mother with questioning eyes.

 

"Mum, don't be silly, it's no secret Iove Harry—just like I love you, and dad and the kids..."

 

"Oh don't _you_ be daft, Hermione Granger—the three of us know it's not simple love like that." Hermione glared daggers at her mum and before she could utter any words towards her that she would most likely regret later, Laurence Granger entered the kitchen that moment, rubbing his belly dramatically.

 

"Is dinner ready?" He cried, turning off the stove because the rice was ready as well as the boeuf bourguignon. "We're all starving back there..."

 

…

 

After they had all sat around for all four courses of dinner including dessert and the children were all passed out in the den, Laurence and Helena insisted upon doing the dishes the muggle way after both Harry and Hermione had insisted that a simple spell would save them time and trouble. In the kitchen, Hermione's parents whispered to each other, Laurence insisting on wanting to know why dinner had suddenly become such an awkward ordeal—and why Hermione had glared at her mother during the entire meal. When his wife told him he shook his head in utter dismay.

 

"You shouldn't have said a thing, Helena... You and that daughter of our's have this terrible tendency to overstep and get into other people's business." He hissed, in exasperation as he ran a hand through his hair.

 

"Maybe it wasn't the best way to do it, I admit, but it'll make them think, Laurie—and hopefully discuss." Laurence rolled his eyes.

 

"What if you're wrong, what if they don't love each other like that? Don't you forget that until a year ago Harry was happily married and he would have continued to be so had his wife not passed away..." Helena huffed and rolled her eyes.

 

"I never said he didn't love his wife, Laurence—I'm just saying he's always loved Hermione too and she's always loved him."

 

"You're a hopeless romantic, woman. Your head's sometimes so much in the books that you seem to forget this is the real world and maybe, just maybe, they love each other only as just friends."

 

"Then how do you explain the mark on her neck?" Helena pointed out, as she looked at home pointedly, a hand on her waist and a brow raised with a smug reaction. Laurence's eyes went wide for a moment, trying to remember if he saw any strange mark on his daughter's neck and frowning.

 

"Maybe a vampire bit her?" He asked suppressing a laugh, a second later and Helena swatted him forcefully with a dish towel.

 

" _Don't be thick, Laurence!_ " She exclaimed, shaking her head and cursing him under her breath as she went back to her dishwashing, while he dried and put the dishes away in the cupboard.

 


	7. The Storm

To say Hermione Granger was furious with her mother and her big blubbering mouth was an understatement. After Harry had bid the couple goodbye and flooed back to Hermione's house with the kids she stayed behind, stationed on her parents' sofa. Laurence sensing a row would undoubtedly occur between the two forces of nature that were his wife and daughter kissed Hermione goodnight and retreated to the master bedroom, far too tired to mediate their conflict right now.

 

When Helena Granger stepped into the living room from where she had gone to change into her camisole, she had already felt the tense and angry energy that emanated from her only daughter, whose brown eyes were dark with rage.

 

"Hermione..." She said, quietly as she sat on the other edge of the sofa and tried to reach for her daughter's hand, only for Hermione to flinch away from her touch. "Maybe I shouldn't have said those things tonight..." She started.

 

" _Mother_ , you shouldn't have said those things at all! It was not your place to do so, and what on Earth possessed you to think you could make so many assumptions on my feelings for Harry and his for me? I am a grown woman, Mum, and Harry is a grown man and those are things for _us_ to deal with and talk about, not you." Hermione stood from her seat and began to pace the area of the carpet surrounding the sofa as she spoke, her hands moving wildly with each word and her cheeks bright crimson from her heightened emotions. "I love you mum, I really do, but I'm no longer a little girl who needs your protection—I can deal with things on my own!"

 

Hermione's thoughts reverted to Harry as she continued to pace, this time in silence as her mother's eyes followed her every movement. She sighed deeply, embarrassed for everything that happened tonight and a part of her even beginning to regret having invited him and his children to Tenby in the first place. With a lower tone of voice she continued, a trembling hand tucking stray honey-brown curls behind her ears:

 

"Harry just lost his wife mum, who he loved. He's grieving, he's hurting a-and the things you said will only serve to confuse him further. He came to Tenby to relax and have a good time with his kids, not to go through this _madness_!" She said in exasperation, trying to keep her cool, but feeling every bit irritated by her mother and her foolish actions.

 

"I _understand_ your point Hermione, but I _am_ your mother and I will always interfere where you are concerned. _Always!_ " Helena cried out, her voice gradually louder, "that's what mothers do—and you know that!" She pointed, defiantly at her daughter. " _Yes,_ perhaps I did make a mistake tonight, perhaps I did say things that will only worsen Harry's emotional turmoil—but I at least had the courage to say those things that have been stuck _here—_ " she said dramatically, pressing her pointed fingers forcefully against her own throat repeatedly, to make a point, "for too many years!". Helena's brown eyes were furious as she shot up from her seat and faced her daughter, chin high in defiance. Helena's cheeks were flushed and her gray curls were pure madness framing her face, tears pooling in her dark eyes. "I've been _choking_ on those words for _years_ and _God damn it_ I should have said them before!" Helena swore, her voice breaking into a sob and Hermione took a step back, brown eyes widening. Helena could see the hurt in them but she also couldn't understand why her daughter always seemed to make her own life so miserable. Couldn't she see her mother had wanted to give her and Harry a push into the direction she knew both of them had always unconsciously craved?

 

"You shouldn't have said anything to him, Mum. There is no excuse! Sometimes I feel like you meddle with my life for your own entertainment, like I'm a _bloody_ character in your Shakespearean comedy book of life! Well, I hate to break it to you Mum, but this is _real_ life and Harry and I are real people and he especially has been going through a shit time and he didn't need this right now—I honestly don't even know how I'll be able to face him and look at him after tonight and he is my best friend!" Hermione yelled at the older woman. She reached for the green floo powder she always kept stocked in a silver little box on her mother's fireplace taking a handful. Before she could announce her destination she heard her mother say:

 

"And what about _you_ , huh, Hermione? Didn't you snog Harry silly these past few days? Because what could possibly _explain_ that ridiculous hickey on your neck?" Helena accused, "You've been confusing him yourself, so be a grown woman as you said and _fucking_ admit it!" Hermione's shoulders tensed at her mother's harsh words and she glared at her. She hadn't even known herself to be sporting a hickey, how on Earth could she have spent an hour getting ready and not noticed? "Because _I_ know something happened between the two of you Hermione and that whether you both like it or not it changed things. I don't need to be a bloody witch or a psychic to know—I'm your mother and I know _everything_ about you!" Hermione shook her head, hot tears streaming down her reddened cheeks and turned her back to Helena Granger. She cooly announced her address before flooing home, leaving her distraught mother behind.

 

When Hermione arrived home the living room was pure chaos, with shoes, socks, jackets, and toys scattered about, crumbs littering the floor and the dark velvet fabric of the sofa. Hermione was exhausted and stressed, her head aching like it hadn't in years. She kicked off her heels haphazardly and didn't even bother to tidy her living area as she normally would, stumbling up the stairs, hot tears streaming her face, making a beeline for her bedroom. Luckily she didn't bump into Harry—she was in no position to deal with him right now and given the fact that nor he or the children could be found in sight, or could be heard, she assumed that they had all turned in for the night, it was after all nearly one in the morning. She slipped out of her outfit and put on an old but very soft Chudley Canons shirt that had once belonged to Ron and slid under her sheets. Fortunately, tired the way she was, sleep didn't take too long to claim her and she found herself enveloped in a heavy, dreamless sleep.

 

Harry was wide awake in his bed when he heard Hermione's bedroom door close behind her. He waited for a half-hour, what he imagined as enough time for her to fall asleep before he got up and quietly went down the stairs. He decided to tidy the living room to keep himself busy, although the attempt failed miserably at keeping all those things that Mrs. Granger had disclosed to him at bay. She had told him among other things of feelings of love she vehemently thought Hermione and Harry harbored for one other—a love that went way deeper than friendship, a romantic kind of love that Harry had never allowed himself to consider or dwell on when the subject was Hermione Granger.

 

 

He was deeply overwhelmed by everything and although all these days in Tenby had pleasantly kept the thought and image of his wife for the most part away from his thoughts, he still desperately felt the weight of her absence in his life. He had loved Ginny deeply, he had no doubts on the matter, she had been his first love, his companion, his friend and she had gifted him with those three magnificent children who were his entire world. Harry missed waking up to the image of her thick red hair draped across the white of the pillows next to him and the delicious jasmine scent of her perfume that constantly clung to her skin. He missed counting the freckles on her face as he watched her sleep and losing count every time she moved, subconsciously feeling his gaze. He missed how she was in the mornings, grumpy and pouty because she hated waking up early. He missed how every morning she drank a tea blend of red berries that was of a sickening bright magenta color and religiously ate three slices of toast with honey. He missed her laugh, the twinkle in her blue-gray eyes and he even missed their fights that toward the end—and at the time neither of them had known it would be the end—had become more and more frequent, like they had somehow become a version of Ron and Hermione.

 

But Harry had loved Ginny until the very end, still did, and would continue to love her always. This was why he couldn't forgive himself, irrational as it may be, for not having kissed her properly when she'd left for Madam Malkin's and unknowingly to her death. He refused to forgive himself for being responsible for Ginny having died frustrated, angry and perhaps not knowing that despite their numerous rows her husband loved her more than anything. Perhaps, if Harry hadn't been so stubborn and silly they wouldn't have had that stupid fight to begin with. Had there been no fight, he could have accompanied Ginny to Diagon Alley for her dress fitting, he could have died in her place to spare the woman he loved, or in a far better scenario, maybe he could have put his Auror skills to use and could have protected her, unarming the attacker and having him put away, so they could all still be living happily and together, so that he and Ginny could continue to grow old together like they had always planned. These were the very thoughts and regrets that for fourteen months now had constantly plagued his mind and dreams, so much so that Harry could probably count on his fingers the full nights of sleep he'd been able to have after her death. Ultimately, at the end of the day, Harry could wish and regret all he wanted, but none of that changed the devastating reality that Ginny Weasley-Potter was dead and would never return.

 

Harry was shaken out of his plagued thoughts as he heard the loud rumbles of thunder beginning to rage outside, unbeknownst to most of the Tenby dwellers who were fast asleep, in these late hours of the night. He looked out the window and saw the heavy storm forming and lightning beginning to strike repeatedly, as though the sky itself was being cracked open. Harry watched from the window as the strong, heavy winds hit the salty waters of the ocean, the waves becoming wild and ever-violent. He imagined the small town's community of fishers were most likely to not go out to work early morning as per usual, what with the skies and sea in utter revolt. Harry put the kettle on and a few minutes later made his way to the sofa, with a cup of tea in hand. He sat there for the longest time sipping it as he listened to the sound of the rain hitting the window panes and marveling at how strangely the chaos outside seemed to both match and calm the chaos inside of him.

 

…

 

Tenby awoke to a morning of heavy rains, the concept of blue skies seeming almost foreign or fictional, as clouds and clouds of dense, deep gray oppressively covered the entire region. Trees had been ripped out of the ground during the night and a few neighborhoods found themselves without electricity. No one dared to enter their cars or climb on their bicycles to head for work as most of the main streets and even the main road leading up to the train station were covered in water and debris. The radio and television channels made announcements every thirty or so minutes advising people to avoid leaving their homes, the storm only persisting, like the storm in Harry's heart.

 

…

 

Hermione had come down the stairs wrapped in her fluffy blue robe ready to get a headstart on breakfast, slightly peeved that today she wouldn't be able to open the bookshop. Once downstairs she muttered a simple spell under her lips and the homey yellow lights of her antique side table lamps turned on, illuminating the living room area that she expected to be as messy as when she arrived home the night before. Instead, it was spotless aside from a yellow porcelain mug on top of the coffee table and to her even bigger surprise, the heartwarming image of her raven-haired friend asleep on the sofa. She quietly tiptoed around the sofa and coffee table and conjured a warm plush blanket to drape over him, the weather having dropped exponentially due to the combination of incessant rains, winds and the overall lack of sunshine. She tenderly pulled the blanket all the way up to his shoulders, taking in his slight snores and the peacefulness of him. Her heart beat wildly in her chest and she bit her bottom lip as she fought the urge to caress his cheek and run her fingertips through his perpetually messy raven hair.

 

When had her feelings shifted from exclusively fraternal to this _mess_? A mess of inexplicable joy at the mere thought or presence of him; pain because these feelings were all so very _wrong_ and a deeply unnerving, brand new constant feeling of desire for him. She desired Harry's touch, the heat of his breath against her sensitive skin, his fingers tracing her body and his soft, delicious lips pleasuring her. She wanted him, not once, not just now—she loved him and wanted him _always_. Tears began to fill her eyes, because she knew the risks, she knew that these feelings and the things she had done which had only confused him further could drive a wedge between them, a discomfort, because how could she expect him to love her the same way that she now loved him? What were the odds? Hermione had been through war, had been tortured, had escaped death a number of times, had been forced to bury a number of friends and loved ones; she had fallen in love and fallen out of love, and yet, apart from losing her children, the prospect of losing Harry, her lifelong best friend, was Hermione's worst and deepest fear of all. Since the day he and Ron had saved her from a menacing troll in Hogwarts as a little girl, she not once imagined herself with a life where he was not in it.

 

She wiped the tears beginning to trail down her cheeks and sniffed. She cautiously attempted to slide off the coffee table to allow Harry the privacy of sleep, when her hand accidentally knocked over the mug and the sound of it hitting the wooden surface of the floor echoed in the otherwise silent room. It startled him in his sleep and before she risked being seen by him, she practically sprinted towards the kitchen, heart racing madly in her chest, cheeks flushed and her brown eyes wide with shame. She stood there, leaning against the kitchen cabinet, hands glued to the countertops for the longest few minutes in silence, wishing she could have hidden herself under the invisibility cloke. Her heart galoped in her chest, her hands trembled and her body heaved as though she had just run a marathon. Hermione could hear the soft padding of his socked feet against the wooden floorboards.

 

"'Mione..." He murmured, as he caught sight of her blurry form. He rubbed his eyes to try to get the sleep fuzziness away and slipped on his glasses, his vision becoming ever more clear. Hermione looked beautiful that morning—every morning if he was perfectly truthful, but right now she strangely resembled a deer caught in headlights, Harry thought, with a frown.

 

"I woke you up, I'm sorry..." She mumbled out. He shrugged and pulled a chair for him to sit.

 

"What time is it?" He asked and her sharp eyes landed on the wall clock against the wall behind him.

 

"A quarter past seven." He nodded and fidgeted with his hands. At least he'd managed a few hours of sleep. Hermione turned her back to him to stare out the window.

 

Darkness looked to have consumed the usually sunny and colorful landscape of the ocean side and the ancient stone chapel by the docks. It was seven in the morning, but might as well be one.

 

"I don't know what to say to you Harry—about... about those things my Mum told you."

 

"The feelings and love _things_?" She nodded, her back still to him. She could hear him sigh heavily. She heard his chair scrape against the floor and for a moment thought he was leaving the kitchen, with no desire to talk. Instead, she felt a warm if firm hand touch her shoulder and her heart skipped a beat, her eyes closed in pleasure for just a split second—such were the effects of a simple touch of his. She turned her head to look at him and felt as his hand slipped into hers and he gently tugged at it, wordlessly urging her to sit with him on the table. Hermione sat on the chair directly across from him, her fingers laced together above the table. She quietly watched as he appeared to be thinking about what to say. But she was far too impatient.

 

"Harry—I'm sorry about yesterday. My mother was completely inappropriate and utterly silly—I'm still angry at her, furious actually. Completely ruined the mood last night!" Hermione exclaimed with a roll of her eyes. She glared at no one in particular, but at the mere memory of last night's discussion.

 

"She took me aback with everything she said, I never saw any of that coming..." He admitted with a bitter chuckle escaping his lips, and continued, his green eyes boring into Hermione's the first time that morning. "She's your mother and loves you, Hermione, I can see where she was just trying to help in her own weird way," Hermione rolled her eyes at Harry's capacity to quickly and so easily forgive. "But the subject of your mother aside, I do think we need to talk about certain things, and I reckon you think that too." Hermione looked down and traced the markings of the wooden table top as though they were utmost interesting.

 

"I do love you, Harry, always have—but it's different now, and I'm _bloody_ scared." She admitted, eyes still locked on the wood surface rather than on him. "These _new feelings_ are a nuisance, honestly, and I wholeheartedly wish I didn't have to feel them because I don't want to risk ever losing you." Harry heard her voice break and when she slowly raised her head to face him there were tears pooled in her eyes and a few already staining her cheeks. His heart broke at the sight of her—how he wished he could kiss those tears away! But it wouldn't be fair to her to lead her on, not when he wasn't over Ginny, not when he wasn't sure of anything in his life anymore, not when his feelings of friendship and sisterly adoration for her, or whatever, seemed to morph into this monster threatening to devour them.

 

"How could you ever lose me, Hermione? That's preposterous, you and I both know that I can't live a day without you..." He admonished her, taking her hand in his and caressing the back of it with his thumb. "You're my best friend, my confidant, we have so much history together and you are my family, you know that right?" She nodded, though desperately wishing he could add 'woman I love' to that list as well.

 

"I-I _know_ Harry, but things have been different between us since you arrived..." She explained, "and it's possible that I'm loving you in a way that you don't love me and it's not your fault, it's not... but it still _fucking_ hurts." He tried to interrupt but she squeezed his hand and stared at him sternly as if to say _'don't interrupt me you little bugger'_. "I need to get over it, because it's not doing me good and it's not doing you good either, I mean—you've just lost Ginny, your wife who you loved, and Merlin—" she scoffed, "Merlin knows you didn't need this right now..."

 

"Please let me finish Hermione, I need you to know where I stand." She quieted down and tucked the curls of her hair behind her ears, like she always did when anxious or nervous."I love you with all my heart, 'Mione—and those feelings you say you've been feeling, that different kind of love, that desire, I feel it all too and to be honest it _bloody well hurts and is fucked up_ , but it's made me feel more alive than anything since _before_ Ginny died. I _want_ you, Hermione, Merlin knows I want you—badly even! What I wouldn't give to take you in my arms and ravish you right now, make love to you, make you the happiest woman alive... But I can't right now, please understand that. I owe it to Ginny, to you and my children to get over her death so we can all move on. They are not ready and neither am I..." His tears began to stain the lenses of his glasses.

 

Both her hands were clasped between his now, her brown eyes wide and locked with his. She looked like a disheveled goddess, wild honey-colored curls framing her perfect face, the pink pout of her plump lips and the bright and utterly sexy flush of her cheeks. His skin tingled from the sheer tension and energy surrounding them. Nevertheless, Harry continued: "I know this is a lot to ask, 'Mione, but if you could just wait for me, a little longer... Until I'm able to sort out my feelings and can be positively sure of them—because I don't want to risk not being sure and then ruining this beautiful relationship we have or breaking both our hearts—and then, and then there are the five kids between us who we cannot disappoint anymore..." His voice broke. "I think it would be best for all of us if I returned home to London with the kids..." Hermione's heart broke a little at his words.

 

"I understand, Harry, I'll miss you and James and Lily and Albus dearly, but I do think we both need a little time apart to breathe and to think." And then her eyes locked with his and she said: "Know that I will wait for you, I'll always wait for you." He nodded.

 

Hermione was crying her eyes out, but though neither of them were smiling, there was hope in both their eyes. She wiped her tears with the back of her hands. " _Merlin we're idiots!_ " Hermione huffed, but her eyes were bright and a smile played at the corners of her lips, she managed to actually release a hoarse laugh and soon he was tearfully laughing as well.

 

He so badly wanted to kiss her and she so badly wanted to kiss him too.

 

"I guess we'll have to make the best of our last day— _for the kids_." She nodded in agreement and he gave her hands a gentle squeeze. "You beautiful soul..." He said to her, his voice filled with adoration.

 

Outside the storm still raged on.

 


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight: A Grand Finale**

_"_ _And in the sweetness of friendship, let there be laughter and the sharing of pleasures. For it is in the dew of the little things that the heart finds it's morning and renews itself." - Khalil Gibran_

Unfortunately for the children, the storm continued to rage on for the rest of the day, so the Potter family's last day in Tenby was not spent outside, at the beach as what would have been ideal, but indoors, within the safety and coziness of aunt Hermione's house. Despite this, the two adults had been doing their best to keep the littles entertained and enjoying their last day together. Hermione couldn't shake the expression of disappointment and sadness she saw on all of their faces when it was announced during breakfast and it had taken them a good deal of time to console Hugo and Lily. Hermione also wasn't oblivious to how James' disposition had changed, as though he was trying hard to have fun and relief her and Harry from the guilt, but was actually wearing a dark stormy cloud over his head—deeply saddened that he would have to return home to London.

In an attempt to bond with the older children Harry had enlisted James, Albus and Rose into the kitchen to bake pizza for lunch and it had worked. James, Albus, and Rose happily kneaded and pounded the dough against flour covered kitchen table and enjoyed a snack of chocolate chip cookies they had baked with Harry and tall glasses of warm milk while they waited for the dough to grow. And now they were making a war zone of Hermione's kitchen as she cringed hearing pans clatter, giggles, and squeals from the three pizzaioli, flipping the disks over their heads from the living room.

"What's that?" Hermione heard Lily ask pointing to the bunched-up heavy fabric with embroideries that she was carrying.

"This, Lilybug, is a hammock. It's something you hang between two posts or walls and can swing and rest in. A lot of people sleep on hammocks instead of beds, actually." The girl hummed and watched with curiosity as Hermione finished hanging it and listened as her aunt explained that she'd brought it from a work trip to Brazil several years ago. Lily examined it with curiosity, having never seen a hammock before and as Hermione pulled the little redhead into it with her, their bodies swinging as Hermione's long legs lifted from the ground the girl squealed and giggled, snuggling next to her aunt. "So, do you like the hammock, baby?" Hermione asked, nuzzling the little girl. Lily nodded and Hermione smiled. When Lily seemed distracted enough Hermione surprisingly assaulted her with tickles. Lily's high-pitched laughs could be heard all over the house and soon Hugo arrived and wanted into the hammock as well, Hermione tickled him too. A few minutes later the two children were panting and wearing matching cheeks of bright crimson. They calmed into Hermione's hold as she continued to swing them leisurely, each child with a head resting on her shoulder as the witch ran her fingers gently through their ginger locks and offered to tell them a story.

"Mummy, tell a Toto the Dog story!" Hugo exclaimed with a smile. "Please, mummy! Oh, Lily, you'll love it!" He told his cousin.

"All right, all right. Let me see… Ah, yes. Once upon a time lived a very fat, very smelly dog by the name of Toto. Toto was so, so smelly that none of the children wanted to play with him, so he became very sad. One day, a boy named Timmy and his brother John moved to the house next door to Toto's and despite the way Toto appeared and smelled they were instantly friends and would go on many adventures together…"

Harry peaked at Hermione and their littlests from the entryway and half-heartedly listened to the silly story.

"Mummy will never admit it, but she's Toto." Harry turned around to face the know-it-all's know-it-all child and chuckled.

"Smelly and fat?" Rose's brown eyes twinkled and she chuckled. "Why do you think that?"

"Because she told me once that she was very lonely before meeting you and dad and that she didn't have any friends because everyone thought she was strange."

"Ah, like the children didn't want to be friends with Toto?" Rose nodded and looked at him like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Harry ruffled her rust-colored curls and allowed her to wrap him in the Granger-famous bear hug, even though she was covered head to toe in flour. "I'll miss you Rosie. Take good care of mum, all right? We don't want her feeling lonely and sad like that ever again."

Rose frowned and sighed as she untangled herself from her uncle.

"But can't you see she already is?" Harry's forehead creased as Rose ran off and seconds later returned with a picture frame. She showed it to him, a muggle shot of a smiling Hermione in her graduation day robes, Harry and Ron surrounding her, all goofy smiles as well. The sky on the horizon was of pink and orange hues from the sunset and behind them was the imposing and fairytale-like castle of Hogwarts. They had been so happy that day—over a year after the war ended and though it was an utmost bittersweet occasion, it had been one of the most beautiful ceremonies Harry had ever attended. He recalled how Headmistress McGonagall had called on all of the graduating students, leaving the best—Hermione—for last. He remembered the older witch's speech like it were yesterday, presenting Hermione onto the stage as the most courageous and brilliant witch to set foot in Hogwarts in over a century or more. Hermione had completed her course with Outstanding results in all subjects even though the greatest test of all she had already top scored—the war itself. That day marked the first time in history that the imposing Headmistress had actually allowed herself to cry in public—to let go just a little bit to honor her favorite pupil of all time. And how the crowd had watched in awe and then cheered Hermione with confetti and streamers as she climbed up the stage, face red from her own tears and received the diploma.

Harry and Ron had never been prouder as they watched Hermione deliver her speech in honor of the schoolmates they had lost to the war and would have been graduating with them today, hologram-like images of them floating about in a way that had been mesmerizing and Harry remembered being curious at how Hermione managed to do that. And then came Head Girl Ginny Weasley's speech, followed by Head Boy Neville Longbottom's and Luna Lovegood closing the event with a beautiful song. Besides _Weasley Is Our King_ , no one had really known she could sing and so beautifully. Indeed, an unforgettable day. After the ceremony, Harry, Ron, and Hermione moved into a flat together near the ministry where Harry and Ron had been undergoing Auror training and Hermione spent a good deal of her summer researching how to find and reverse the advanced memory charms put on her parents, still in Australia.

"What do you mean your mum's lonely and sad, Petal?" Harry asked her, pulling her aside so Hermione wouldn't listen. The girl frowned and pointed to the picture.

"Because she doesn't have you or my dad so close anymore, as her best friends. She has other friends here, but it will never be the same, I think. Like it wouldn't be the same if James and Albie weren't my best friends anymore…" Harry nodded and looked at the picture once more, wistfully.

"I reckon it's about time we worked on fixing that, isn't it?" Rose nodded in agreement, happy she was able to get the message across. Adults could be so daft at times, even her mother with all her brilliance.

" _DAD!_ " Harry heard Albus call from in the kitchen. "Do you think the pizzas are ready?" Harry rushed into the kitchen because he noticed a burnt smell wafting through the house. And Rose giggled at the Potter boys' hysterics as she followed her uncle in, setting the picture frame on the table.

…

After their dinner of slightly burnt pizzas (but that were nevertheless delicious) and a full jug of pumpkin juice, Hermione decided they best make a goodbye party out of the rest of the evening. She hauled the sofas and coffee table into the back of the room and with her wand rolled the large rug and shrunk it, setting it on top of her desk. She then charmed the room to darken and the lamps to shine in multiple colors. She transfigured the ceiling light into a large disco ball and turned on her music player, popping in an old LP with songs by Chuck Berry, Little Richard and Elvis Presley, the loud music pouring into the room. As soon as Hermione, inhibitions thrown out the window began to dance in the funny 1950's style, Hugo, Lily, and Rose joined in and the girl, as bossy as her mother, pulled James and Albus in as well.

Finished with the tidying up in the kitchen, Harry came in only to catch the mesmerizing sight of a Hermione dancing with her curls wild and bobbing in the air, bright brown eyes full of joy and laughter in her voice as she sang along to _"Roll Over Beethoven"_ , twirling Rosie around. Her eyes locked with Harry's and he saw as a mischievous glint appeared in her eyes and she began to edge closer to him, still swaying to the music and pulled him by the hands into their makeshift disco. Now, Harry was known for being the owner of two left feet, therefore absolutely terrible at dancing, but even he wasn't immune to the fun and music and soon he was twirling Hermione around and singing along as well.

…

When bedtime finally came around James and Albus had insisted Hermione read them the last two chapters of _"The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe"_ and seeing as it was their last night, Hermione had wormed herself onto the double bed with Albus and James listening with all their attention. For them, when aunt Hermione read a story it seemed like it was coming to life. She brought emotion and different tones of voice to the characters, which was simply mesmerizing. Meanwhile, Harry tiptoed out of Rosie's room, who was fast asleep on her bed, after had sat next to her humming a tune and running his fingers through her curls. The crushing goodbye hug that she gave him weighed on his conscious, especially now that more than ever he was aware of the troubles and insecurities that plagued his young niece. He would miss her dearly, his little Rose-Petal, and he made a deal of letting her know.

Both adults bumped into each other as Hermione tiptoed out of James and Albus' room and Harry carefully came down the stairs from Rose's attic bedroom. Bedtime rounds always took time and though worn out from the day and from their emotional exchange that morning, they still had Lily and Hugo to deal with, who by the sounds of the yells, laughing and crashing coming from their shared room, were little balls of energy that would take time to settle down. They shared a look, both dreading the same thing and couldn't help but laugh.

"Is it bad that I defeated a dark lord out to kill me and am more afraid of two five-year-olds on a sugar rush?" Harry asked and Hermione was incapable of holding in her laugh. He smiled at her reaction, glad and relieved that things were still okay between them, that she looked okay.

"Not half as bad as the prospect of not having two five-year-olds to put to bed tomorrow…" She told him, with a look in her eyes that reflected a sadness Harry realized she'd been hiding all day. "I'll miss them." She said, her eyes locked with his, chin pointing to the bedroom doors of the children. Harry knew she was being completely honest because he knew just how much he was going to miss Rosie and Hugo as well, but something about the way she said it and the way her dark brown eyes pierced into his, Harry knew that the words were directed straight to him. Hermione would miss him, Harry, and Merlin how he already missed her as well.

If he was perfectly honest, his heart's urging and desire were to pull her into his arms and kiss her silly, but they both knew it wasn't yet time.

"Harry…" She whispered, inching closer to him. Her eyes had tears now threatening to fall, "I know we discussed this, I know it's wrong, b-but…" Her eyes were searching for his, were desperate to know if he felt the same as she did, that strange inebriating pull, that wicked desire that pulled them closer like to heavy magnets. She wondered if he could see it all in her eyes—just what she was alluding to. And he, Harry, recognized that same fearful desire in her eyes and Merlin he wanted her so badly… He watched as she slowly, hesitantly snaked her arms, one by one around his neck and inched closer for an embrace. The vanilla scent of her curls assaulted his senses as she buried her face into his neck and before he knew it his arms were pushing her closer, glued to him. _"Kiss me Harry, just this one last time…"_ She whispered into his ear, her warm breath eliciting goosebumps on his skin. His heart pounded in his chest and he could feel hers just as uncontrollable, and so he did. His hand gently cupped her cheek as their eyes met, full of emotion and dark with desire. She went on the tip of her toes, arms still snaked around his neck and he lovingly kissed her forehead and watched as her eyes closed involuntarily from the sensation, and then he kissed each one of her eyes, the tip of her nose and each cheek before landing on her sweet, rosy lips. They kissed softly, tentatively, all very different from the feverishness of the last night. He hoped to etch every little aspect of her, the texture and moisture of her lips, how soft they were to his brain, but when her tongue touched his, all reason went out the window. He pulled her tighter against him, if that was even possible, and he gave in to their attraction, to the wonderful feeling that he might explode from all this pleasure, joy and sadness. In the end, when they were both out of breath, he pressed his forehead to hers, both panting, eyes still closed from the sheer electricity of it and he let her place a smaller, chaste kiss on his lips and then his eyes fluttered open, meeting with hers. His hands trembling as he tucked her curls behind her ears, as she looked at him overflowing with love.

He didn't want to leave.

She didn't want him to leave.

He had to leave.

…

It was just after seven in the morning when Harry decided to go up and check on all of the children, make his rounds from room to room to call them to floo home to London, as had been the plan. He checked the guest room where he and his sons were staying first, both boys fast asleep, Albus with his thumb in his mouth, toes sticking out of the comforter and James snoring slightly on the mattress on the floor wrapped in a quilt, clutching the worn stuffed lion that had been his sleeping companion since birth. Harry smiled tenderly at his boys who were growing so fast, his heart heavy that at such a young age they had had to experience the painful and life-changing loss of their mum. Harry was well familiar with grieving and losses, but despite having always felt the great absence of his parents throughout his life, he had no recollection of them, he knew not what his mother's voice sounded like or his father's laugh. He didn't know what their favorite desserts were, or favorite colors and hobbies… Other than what the history books held and a few bits here and there from old friends and colleagues from the Order, Harry knew nothing of his parents and so his sense of loss was completely different from James and Albie's. The boys remembered Ginny, they knew almost everything about her—from her foul mood in the mornings to how she took her tea and the way she turned bright pink when she laughed in that loud boisterous way of hers. Ginny wasn't the stranger to them that Lily and James Potter the Firsts were to their son.

Harry looked to the side and found his muggle camera laying haphazardly on top of the dresser and seeing his sons so peaceful and young it occurred to him to capture this little moment before they were too grown that he'd have a hard time imagining them this small again. He snapped a sweet picture of Albus, with his messy head of ebony hair all over the place and eagerly sucking on that thumb. Harry chuckled quietly to himself—he could perfectly envision an older version of his middle son blushing profusely as Harry showed the image to a visiting girlfriend—or boyfriend, for that matter.

And then came James, whose eyelids were beginning to flutter, sensing his father's presence. Harry shushed him as though he were still a baby and soon James let out a deep contented sigh and his foggy green eyes were shut again. Harry snapped the picture and smiled lovingly, thinking that in a year from now he would be seeing less and less of him like this. It always brought a pang to his heart. He recalled Ginny admonishing him for wanting to keep his children always closer because Hogwarts was every magical child's dream and he would make James weary of going. For Ginny it was mostly happy, aside from the war, but to Harry, as much as he had loved his old school, as much as it had been in his heart, what home was for so long, he couldn't wipe from his memories the heartache and the dark terrible things that had occurred there during the war. In fact, many times, it weighed on Harry that perhaps he was the only one who still recalled and dwelled on these things.

He stepped outside of the bedroom and shut the door behind him quietly, making a turn for the bedroom Hugo and Lily, the dynamic duo were sharing. Hermione had smartly transfigured Hugo's bed into a bunk, but to his surprise, as he tiptoed inside, Lily and her cousin were huddled together in the bottom for warmth, her back facing her cousin, who held on to the knit yellow duckling for dear life. Harry remembered the duckling from Hugo's first birthday party at the Burrow, what felt like eons ago. It had been lovingly knit by Molly Weasley.

As he looked at them, it dawned on Harry just how much Lily and Hugo looked alike, what with their bright ginger curls and the same small number of freckles bridging over Lily's delicate nose, bridging over Hugo's as well. The pair of redheads were just two months apart in age and Harry surmised that any pair of unknowing eyes would assume them to be twins and hell, judging by the last two weeks, they were just as in sync and inseparable from one another as any pair of twins. For a moment Harry's eyes traveled to many years ago when he first came across Fred and George, Lily and Hugo's uncles. As he set on the edge of their bed, curved over because there was a bed on top, he snapped the photograph of them, Lily's hand balled into a fist clutching her lilac baby-blankie, Hugo's little face almost buried in her head of curls. He would miss these two together and it hurt him already how their return to London would affect both five-year-olds. He knew for a fact that Lily would be miserable for a while and he imagined Hugo would miss her just as much.

It hurt that he had to do this, separate them, especially when they are all so happy, and it became increasingly clear to him what the past weeks had been truly about. Unknowingly, Harry, Hermione and all of their children living under this roof, looking out into the beautiful view of the ocean and colorful row houses had been living an illusion. They had been playing house… One big happy family. Lots of siblings to bicker, have fun and play with; the loving presence of a mummy, which Harry knew his young trio craved, and for the Granger children the safety, presence and companionship of a doting father—which judging by Rosie (because Hugo was not one to talk) was her greatest wish. And for Harry, it had been family, happy and united and a beautiful wife to share everything with—the good and the bad—to kiss and make love with, to share his feelings and frustrations with. Perhaps he was projecting on Hermione that which he most desired to have again. He shuddered as he recalled the intensity of last night's kiss, but he was certain that this was all a terrible illusion and they were right to put an end to it before they got hurt.

He shook Lily awake and gently pulled her, half asleep in his arms, careful not to wake her cousin and walked out of the bedroom with her shrunk little suitcase being slipped into his pocket. The boys were already up and ready, albeit wearing the somber faces Harry expected them to wear.

They climbed down the stairs together, headed for the fireplace that was a now functioning floo port and as the Potter's cast one last look at their surroundings, Harry threw the powder in as he voiced their home address and in seconds they were gone, consumed by the bright green smoke. Hermione stood on the bottom step of the stairs, clutching Lily's lilac baby-blankie, blinking as though only now the reality of everything dawned on her. It was impossible to fight against the tears stinging at the corner of her eyes and the ache in her chest that screamed of loss and in a way grief. She inhaled Lily's lavender, baby powder scent from the little blankie as she held on to it for dear life, her body lowering until she was sitting on the step because otherwise, she would fall.

 _Why?_ Why them for Merlin's sake?


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter Nine: The Olive Branch**

_"_ _For what you love most in your friend may become clearer in his/her absence, like the mountain for the climbers becomes clearer in the plains." – Khalil Gibran_

It felt like hours that Hermione had been sitting on that bottom step, Lily's soft blankie cradled against her, wet from tears. She stared at the living room surrounding her, sofas still pushed to the far wall from when they'd been dancing the previous night. She felt empty, in her heart and now in her home. For all these years it had been her and her two children, and suddenly in a matter of two or so weeks… It was like pieces of her heart had been ripped away.

" _Stupid, stupid, stupid_ …" She cursed herself in a hushed tone, hot tears streaming down her cheeks.

Hermione had been so silly to think it would last, to think that she had a chance. All these years she had been perfectly capable of bottling in her feelings, controlling herself, and suddenly she had become so weak! Hermione was angry at herself, for her failure and for being naïve to the point of thinking Harry would've stayed. Truth was, and Hermione hated to admit it, but Ron had been completely right about her all those years ago, in the _'row that ended all rows'_ and led to their divorce. He had been right when he'd accused her— _no_ —spelled out to her that since the age of twelve Harry Potter had been _it_ to her—the love of her life, her 'one and done'. Ron had been caught in the middle, he had been a hindrance because she, Hermione, had lied to everyone and to herself, had hidden it well for years and years… Harry had always been the man she loved, there was no shadow of a doubt now. But as was the case with most legendary romances out there—most of which she had already read—Hermione had to go on living her little life without the kind of love she desperately wanted him to feel for her, the same desperate, hungry, patient, unrelenting love she had always harbored. And now, to top it all off, she loved his children too, as much as she loved her Rosie and her Hugo and their absence, now more than ever was almost unbearable.

Once again Hermione sighed deeply, but pulled her wand out of her pocket, returning her living room to its normal. Rose and Hugo would be up soon, so she made a beeline for the kitchen to put the kettle on and the slices of bread in the toaster. She looked straight ahead as she went, not wanting to look at the stone fireplace from where they'd left. She hated it now.

Not long after, she was standing there in her kitchen, looking out of the large window above her sink which overlooked the ocean with its fisherman boats tied to the docks, the ancient stone chapel right on the beach and the colorful row houses which had made her fall in love with this town. The storm had passed and there were no more clouds masking the sky. Yesterday had been chaos and the small city of Tenby which was now Hermione's home began to return to normal. She could see the tiny figures of people cleaning the streets and trucks collecting debris. Others were already up and heading for work, others to run their errands. Life went on, is what everyone and everything was telling her. Hermione was strong, always had been and she would overcome this storm in her life, she would go back to her normal, even if that normal wasn't enough for her any longer.

Hermione jumped as she was startled by the sound of a wooden door slamming forcefully coming from upstairs, followed by the desperate wails of her little son having awakened to a reality where his beloved cousins and uncle weren't there. She felt the familiar sting of tears at the corner of her eyes and her heart weighed on her like a ton of bricks. She wiped away the tears that slid down her cheeks on their own accord and inhaled deeply. She was the adult, the mother if anything she had to be strong. _Be the example_ her conscious told her. She waited for him to come down by the kitchen archway, facing the stairs, and Hugo did, holding on to the rail, one step at a time, afraid to trip over what with his eyes filled with tears.

" _M_ - _mummy!_ " He sobbed desperately as he flung himself into her arms and allowed her to cradle and rock him, like the baby he would always be in her heart.

"It's going to be all right, Hughie, I promise…" She repeated in whispers, only for them both to hear.

Rosie came down a little while later, not crying, but visibly upset. She passed her mother and Hugo and went straight inside the kitchen, as quiet as a mouse, to yesterday's leftover cookies with milk. Hermione continued to hold and console her little boy, although to be quite honest he was probably consoling her more.

_TWO WEEKS LATER…_

_Monday, July 21_ _st_ _, 2014_

Hermione was on cashier duty in her bookshop, enjoying a few quiet minutes with her tea as she browsed through a publisher's catalog, marking the books she was interested in stocking up on. After the storm, Tenby had been quick to recover and the tourists once again began to flock in once more which meant more and more clients eager for quality holiday reads, iced teas, coffees, and pastries. Hermione and her small staff had been working double the hours and she had been almost constantly on her feet for days. Her back ached and so did her head sometimes, but more work meant more profit and for that, she could not complain. Although she owned her house which had been paid in full after the divorce and she rent the bookshop from her parents at a below market value, Hermione no longer earned the large sums that came with her high-ranking ministry jobs of the past which provided a generous financial safety net. She didn't regret it at all though, leaving everything for Tenby. Obviously, this didn't mean Hermione hadn't been happy with her ministry work, on the contrary, it was there that she felt like she had made a true impact in the world. But Tenby brought her pleasure in many ways that her ministry jobs hadn't and it allowed her more time to spend with her children, with her reading, with her research and simply enjoying herself, in a way that her jobs at the ministry hadn't. Hermione rarely went out for drinks with her local friends, to dinner or the cinema. The last date she had been on seemed lightyears away, but she couldn't say she wasn't living. For the most part, she was content and happy, more so than when she'd been married, living in London and working at the ministry in the final years. She'd been miserable then.

"Herms, you coming to the meeting?" Susan, her blue-haired friend, and business partner asked as she began to turn off the lights and the computer. It was 7 pm already and past their Monday closing hours.

Hermione was instantly shaken from her reveries. Her brown eyes went wide when she remembered and checked the time on her wristwatch.

"I-yes, of course. We're discussing our strategies today, aren't we, with legal?" Susan nodded whilst rolling her eyes. Hermione herself had scheduled and notified every one of it two days ago, following the letter that came in from the Ministry of Magic last Thursday. Since then, every single member of the Tenby Magical Association had been on their toes, because a public hearing on the matter of Tenby's relaxed obedience of the Statute of Secrecy was soon to be held.

"Are Hugo and Rose with your parents today?"

"Yes, I'll just call my dad to tell them I'll be coming in late…" Hermione pulled out her phone from her pocket and dialed the familiar number. Susan waited for her patiently and once Hermione had exchanged words with Laurence Granger and purposefully _not_ with Helena Granger, they were on their way to the TMA headquarters at the park, a few blocks away by foot.

"You've been awfully quiet and distracted lately—everyone's been wondering about it." Susan pointed out after a few moments of silence as they walked.

"I have?" Susan nodded.

"Yes! And don't go about insulting my intelligence saying it's because of the public hearing 'cause you've been this way for much longer since your friend with the beard and funny scar came around and left with his _flock_ of children. You seemed so happy then, what happened?"

Hermione chuckled at Susan's choice of words regarding Harry's children, she loved the woman's sense of humor and bluntness, it quite reminded her of Ron.

"The spell broke, I suppose, and he left. They left."

"And you wanted them to stay." It wasn't a question, but a statement and Hermione could only nod. "Does your friend know you love him?"

"Yes, I believe he does. We spoke about it…"

"You spoke about your feelings?" Susan laughed disbelievingly. "Hermione Granger spoke about having feelings? _Wow!_ I wish I could have been a little fly on the wall to witness that…" The woman said in mock wonder. And Hermione rolled her eyes in mock annoyance, trying to hide a grin.

"Oh, shut up, Susan. We made the decision together."

"For him to leave?" Hermione nodded, finding that the cobblestones of the pavement were far more interesting than usual. "So, he doesn't love you back?" Hermione shrugged. "What does that mean, that shrug? Does he, or does he not?" Susan's voice was an octave higher now as a result of her curiosity and the fact that she seemed to find Hermione's predicament with Harry oh-so-funny.

"If I knew I'd tell you, and probably he would have stayed or I don't know, returned by now? Written? I'm afraid I scared him off—I overwhelmed him with my stupid feelings and _beautifully_ caught him off guard." Hermione admitted, with bitterness and sarcasm etched to her words.

"Time will tell, I hope?" Hermione sighed heavily.

"He hasn't written. Not even a tiny note to let me know they arrived well and that the children are okay. He's avoiding me."

"Scared off your little crush then?" Susan said with amusement in her voice. Hermione glared at her, threatening her with her wand. Susan chuckled and stopped Hermione in her tracks, in the middle of the sidewalk. "I'm sorry, you know how I am, trying to make light of-of you know." Hermione nodded and rolled her eyes. "I imagine it's hurting like fuck and eating at your conscious…"

"Yes, it is. I've honestly started to regret it now, inviting him here with the kids. I promise you I wouldn't be this miserable and we would still be friends on speaking terms."

"Oh, don't be daft Hermione, it doesn't become you." Susan admonished. "Love doesn't kill but it sure isn't easy on the heart, trust me, I'm an expert. Louisa and I are going mad with the trial coming up, for Sebastian's custody. I'm so scared of losing my son, Hermione, you cannot imagine. But I know that despite this mess we are currently in, with my ex wanting to take my son away because he's a homophobe who thinks two capable women can't raise a child together, I don't regret any of it. I love Louisa and I have never loved her more than now, because I know we are in this together." Susan took Hermione's hands in hers and squeezed them reassuringly. "I'm sure that he's just trying to make sense of things, men often take longer than women in most things, right? I know he loves you, Hermione, he's not purposefully avoiding you or anything, I saw how he was with you, the adoration in his eyes, how he lit up when he'd see you. Be a bit more patient." Hermione had tears in her eyes as she wrapped Susan in one of her famous bear hugs.

"Thank you."

"Oh, hush!" Susan responded, hugging Hermione back.

…

The Leaky Cauldron was packed that Monday evening. It was past business hours and shopkeeping wizards and clientele alike crowded the old pub that was the entry point of Diagon Alley. Harry sat in a booth in the far back, nursing a tall glass of butterbeer for old time's sake. Ron, as was his usual, was fifteen minutes late. Harry didn't mind as it allowed him to exchange a few words with Hannah Abbott, an old Hogwarts schoolmate and now fiancée of his friend Neville and catch up on their news. Hannah, the kind Hufflepuff that she was helped Harry politely escape a few wizards and witches who were far too delighted to see him. He'd grown used to it with the years, but the attention and fame that came with being the Boy Who Lived and now the Man Who Conquered was a bit of a cross to carry. Harry had no desire or inclination to be a celebrity of sorts or to have his news and gossip about his life in the papers, but as it was, it was something he couldn't change and was forced to live with. He recalled how charismatic Ginny was and how she was a natural with the public and press, always flawless, smiling and glowing. He wasn't like that at all.

Harry was enjoying the last sip of his drink when he noticed the tall, handsome and lean figure with hair of flaming red that belonged to his best and oldest mate contrasting against those of the crowd. He watched as Hannah greeted Ron and they exchanged a few pleasantries before she pointed him to Harry's direction. Ron was all smiles as he came in, carrying a number of shopping bags.

"Oy, Harry!" He exclaimed, waving excitedly as he approached and Harry got up to pat his back. "Sorry I'm late, was doing some last-minute shopping for Luna, you understand?" Harry nodded and chuckled, not caring at all.

"Preparations for the baby?" Ron nodded with a smile, his cheeks a bright pink.

"We're doing last minute touches on the nursery. Rosie and Hugo will be with us this Saturday and we want to get them helping, apparently it allows the older siblings to feel useful and more open to a new baby… Was what Luna read somewhere at least."

"How are they, Rose and Hugo?"

"Fine, as far as I know, summer's dragging on, eh?" Ron said because he despised the heat, but Harry knew that it was his favorite time of the year despite it all, because he could spend more time with his kids. "You never got to telling me how things were in Tenby. Things all right at Hermione's?" Harry nodded.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. We had lots of fun with the kids. We visited the castle ruins, several beach trips, they had a blast." Ron nodded as he whistled for a waiter to come to take his order.

"I think I'll have something to eat, mate, maybe the soup special. Busy day today!" Harry chuckled.

A few minutes of chit chat later and Harry's second butterbeer arrived, along with Ron's order. The redhead watched with interest as each time he asked about Hermione and Tenby Harry would be so vague with his responses. Harry tended to be vague, but Ron hadn't expected it to be this much.

"What _really_ happened at Tenby, mate?" Ron watched with hidden enthusiasm as all color seemed to disappear from his best friend's face and he was a mess of stuttering and saying a lot and nothing at all.

…

_Wednesday, 23_ _rd_ _July 2014_

Hermione arrived home from the bookshop, carrying heavy grocery bags in each hand. As Hermione stumbled through the door kicking off her wedges, Rose came in a hurry towards Hermione, a folded and wax-sealed piece of parchment in her hand.

"Letter for you mum, Pig brought it, so it must be from dad!" Hermione thanked her and retrieved the message. "He also sent Hugh and I a letter. Hughie, don't you want to read it with me?" Hermione loved Rose for her courage, her strength, and her innate nature to try and make everyone feel better and happy. Hermione was thankful and proud of her, and pulled the girl for a tight hug and a flurry of kisses, as Rose tried to squirm from her mother's hold. Hugo seemed much more interested in his older sister's proposition and so pulled her by the hand towards the soft suede sofa so she could read what their father had written.

 _She is a big girl now…_ Hermione thought and couldn't help but smile. Louisa who had been watching the children for the afternoon as they played with Sebastian, her girlfriend's son found Hermione standing by the door looking like a bit of a fool in a mess of honey brown curls.

"Wish I could stay longer for us to catch up 'Mione but Susan just called saying the lawyer wants to meet with us first thing tomorrow morning. Have to get Sebastian bathed and in bed." Hermione smiled as they pecked each other's cheeks and she uttered a cheery goodbye to the blond little boy as she ruffled his hair. Not a minute later Louisa and Sebastian were out the door.

Hermione pulled her wand out of her pocket and in seconds all of her purchases were in their designated places and stored in the fridge. She put the kettle on the stove and without a hurry in the world patiently waited for it to whistle, so she could sit down with her evening cup of tea and this mysterious letter with her name scribbled on top.

Moments later the kettle went off and Hermione poured herself some tea. She sat on her kitchen table ceremoniously a part of her dreading the contents of the unopened parchment in her hand, carefully ungluing the seal and unfolding it and thinking it must be something really interesting because it wasn't every day that Ronald Weasley sat down to write two full pages worth of letter. She desperately missed him sometimes, the way he made her laugh, his companionship, even if most of the time he drove her crazy. Though it turned out not being an ideal union, Hermione would never dare to say that she hadn't loved him or that she regretted ever marrying him. How could she regret being with the man who gave her the most precious gifts ever, her two beautiful children? The thing was, and they both learned this the hard way, as much as they had loved and cared for one another and loved and cared for their children, it hadn't been enough to keep them together—and it would have never been enough, because as it turned out, her love for Ron could never be as great as her love for Harry, that was the tragedy of Hermione's life. And Ron, he didn't know it back then, bless his soul, but the true love of his life was always meant to be his Looney Lovegood. Hermione smiled tenderly at the thought, because now, years later and having been able to heal from what she considered her greatest failure she could look back and examine it all from a different lens.

She began to read the letter.

_Dear Hermione,_

_I hope this finds you well._

_For a long time, I have felt compelled to write you something that for once didn't just concern our kids but was worried that my words might upset you or not be quite right. You always made a point of telling me I had a terrible way with words. I still always imagine your voice nagging me whenever I write or say anything really and though in the past thinking about you made me sad and angry it doesn't anymore._

_I think we've both had a lot of time to think. These four dragged on by, but at the same time, it overwhelms me just how fast and ephemeral (big word, I know) life is, just look at our kids!_

_The thing is Hermione, and I'll be very blunt now, I am no longer satisfied having to imagine your voice nagging at me or wondering what you would do or say, the bloody genius that you are, but I actually think it's important to get the point across that I miss you, nagging, bossy, bickering with me and I wholeheartedly wish you could be here sometimes, in person, and not just in my annoying conscious. I don't mean you here as my wife or in any romantical form, mind you, I love Luna with all my heart and soul, you know that, but as the best friend I've had since I was a silly 11-year-old sod who along with Harry saved you from a troll._

_As you probably know by now, Luna and I are expecting a little brother or sister for our Rose and Hugo, and Merlin knows how much we wish you were here. We used to be so close, the lot of us, and I always imagined us three, you, me and Harry raising our children all together like one big family and I can't imagine becoming a father for the third time again in a few months and our baby not having his or her Godmother Hermione around. I hope you realize this is not an invitation!_

_I miss our laughs, our fights and how you seem to know everything that was ever written but can't bake a cake to save your life. I'm being repetitive, but suppose I just wanted to let you know what's in my heart and that sincerely miss my best friend Hermione and that if you miss your best friend Ron (and your best friend Luna too) we are here, arms wide open waiting for you._

_Sincerely,_

_Ron_

_P.S.: Give Rosie and Hugo our love and Luna asked to please remind them to always carry the amethyst stone necklaces we sent in their package to keep the Blibbering Hummdingers away because they're common by the shore and can cause a great deal of bad luck._

_P.S. 2: Ah, she also says to let you know that this Sunday will be our baby shower at the Burrow and we are hoping that you could not only bring Hugo and Rose but also stay, considering you're the godmother and it wouldn't be polite otherwise. Also, on Saturday it's our dinner day with the children, we'll be serving mashed potatoes with beef casserole, coincidentally your favorite, and Luna says she won't even hold it against you if you decide to accompany it with wine. Come already you stubborn girl!_

By the time Hermione finished the letter the tears of sorrow for Harry and the children's departure had been substituted by tears of actual joy. Ron had done something that indeed with all her stubbornness and insecurity Hermione wouldn't be able to—he extended an olive branch her way and how could she possibly say no to that?

Rose and Hugo reappeared all smiles and sparkly eyes each one wearing the purple amethyst stone around their necks already, excited for the prospect of seeing their father and Luna, who they absolutely adored, and how could they not?

"It'll be the baby shower this Sunday, mum, we're allowed to go aren't, we?" Rosie asked her and Hermione now wearing a large silly smile didn't have the heart or the inclination to say 'no'.

"Of course, we are going, love! How could we possibly miss it?"

"You're going too, mummy?" Hugo asked, disbelievingly—she never accompanied them to Weasley family events unless it was their birthdays at the Burrow.

"Yes, I'm going too!" Hugo was all smiles now and Hermione made a mental note to thank Ron and Luna for their blessed timing in her written response to them.


	10. Chapter 10

 

* * *

_Saturday, 26th July 2014_

It was six in the evening when Hermione, clasping a hand of each of her children flooed straight to Portobello Road in Notting Hill, a colorful and wondrous place full of quirks and old-world charm that seemed to fit in perfectly with the magical inhabitants of the two-story pink house sitting at the end of the famous street, in a corner much quieter and nothing but charming.

When she stepped out of the black Victorian fireplace, she could barely acknowledge her new surroundings as her head slightly span and as a petite woman smelling of orange blossoms engulfed her in a tight hug. At first stiff from the surprise of it, Hermione soon relaxed into her arms, the round protuberance of the blonde's pregnant belly making the embrace more awkward than in other times. She could hear from the background Ron's voice calling from somewhere else in the house, calling for the children. They each cried a hurried 'hello, auntie Luna!' before scrambling off to the direction of their father, but Luna wouldn't let go of her, barely acknowledging them.

"I'm so happy you're here, Hermione…" Luna said, blue eyes pooled with tears, her skin usually so pale now crimsoned on the cheeks. The Ravenclaw had put on a bit of weight since the last time Hermione saw her, most likely due to the pregnancy. She nevertheless looked beautiful and like an angel, if ever was one. "I-I've been missing you, we were once so close and now that I'm expecting, _I-_ everything's been so uncertain…" She trailed off, sniffling.

Hermione knew very well what Luna was referring to. They had once upon a time been very close, an unlikely friendship that blossomed during their final year of Hogwarts at a time where following the war Hermione had found herself back in school without the company of Harry and Ron. The two, despite their drastic differences in personality and beliefs, had bonded over their traumas, the absence of parents in their lives, over solitude, fear for the future and what it felt to be an outcast. They had bonded over the impact of coming out of a war no longer girls, but women, and due to the fact that they would never be the same again. The war had robbed them both of their innocence and had shown them the limits of human pain, but also of cruelty, love, and courage. Their friendship continued through the years, with them seeing each other nearly once a week for tea at _Pandora's Box_ , a hidden café in Diagon Alley that Luna bought with her inheritance money after graduation and where on the second floor she continued to issue editions of _The Quibbler_ , nowadays a much better regarded and well-read publication than it had been and _The Daily Prophet's_ only real competition, more appealing to the younger generations and far more progressive in its contents.

When Hermione and Ron's divorce came about, she had relied on Luna for a shoulder to cry on and for moral support. When two years later a nervous Luna came to her saying she'd shared a kiss with Hermione's ex-husband, the curly-haired witch hadn't known quite what to do or how to react. When Luna admitted to her that she'd been deeply in love with Ron since Hogwarts days, it had come as a shock. Though Hermione knew that nothing had transpired between her best friend and husband while they were still married, things had never again been the same between the two women. Hermione had given them her blessing and support, but drastically cut ties, until she finally stopped trying to maintain the façade that everything was 'okay' and moved to Tenby with Rose and Hugo.

Hermione's eyes locked with Luna's and she squeezed her hands reassuringly. It dawned on her that Luna was pregnant, a very emotional and life-changing moment in any woman's life and going through it without parents for support or any truly close friends. Childbirth was scary as hell and Hermione knew exactly how she felt.

" _Oh, Luna!_ I'm here now, and I assure you, everything will turn out fine, you'll be a brilliant mother, look at how Hugo and Rose love you…" As Luna dissolved into tears and sobs it was Hermione's turn to embrace her, rubbing soothing circles against her back, allowing the blonde witch to release her pain and frustration, made more intense by the hormones.

"I have missed you so much, Hermione, _honestly_ —I feel so lonely at times and Ronald is a dear and very supportive, I love him, but I miss having my friend around…" Hermione held Luna against her, the Ravenclaw's face buried into her shoulder, much like a child holding on to her parent for dear life.

"I've missed you too, Lunes." Hermione slowly parted their embrace and let Luna have a quiet moment to recompose herself, wiping away the tears. Luna's face was red and her eyes a bit swollen but a smile grew on her face. She grabbed Hermione by the hand, pulling her towards the narrow staircase animatedly.

"Come see the nursery." Hermione followed her upstairs, hand in hand, Luna so quick Hermione could barely take in the colorful décor of their house or the hand-painted murals in some walls that she knew were Luna's work.

…

A few hours later they were all seated around the table, adults, and children engaging in animated chatter over the promised and ever-delicious mashed potatoes with beef casserole, Hermione's favorite food. Hermione's cheeks were rosy as she sipped on her fourth or fifth glass of cabernet and her eyes met with the twinkly blue ones of her ex-husband and best friend. She had missed him—his sense of humor, his brashness, the side of him that would always be a little boy. She enjoyed seeing him with Rose and Hugo—he had taken to parenthood so easily that once she'd been jealous. She realized, looking at the faces of each person on the table that her fears and worries were all very silly—she was happy here, with them, they were her family and how could her brilliant brain have forgotten this wonderful fact?

"I met with Harry the other day at the Cauldron, 'Mione." Ron began, a mischievous grin playing at the corner of his lips. "We were catching up and he told me about his time in Tenby with you…" Hermione, the terrible liar that she was failed to feign indifference as she felt the need to take a rather large swig of her wine. "He told me you lot had fun at the beach. Is that right, Rosie?"

"Yes, daddy! We played a lot at the beach and I showed uncle Harry and my cousins around Tenby and the fortress with Granny and Granddad."

"A great deal of fun, then—that's nice!" Luna remarked, sharing a quick look with her husband, before running her fingers through Hugo's ginger mop of curls. "Why don't the two of you come with me to the kitchen so we can fix dessert?" At the sound of the word 'dessert', the Granger-Weasley children were out of their chairs and carrying each their plate and cutlery into the kitchen excitedly. Ron chuckled as he watched them go—the father of all voraciousness. Hermione rolled her eyes.

"You and Luna are as subtle as an elephant hiding behind a post." She remarked, raising a dark brow.

" _Pfft!_ Don't bullshit me, Granger—I know something happened in Tenby between the two of you, honestly, I'd be disappointed if it didn't."

"What would you like to have happened?" Ron shrugged as he wore a sly grin.

"Vows of undying love or sexy times, maybe." Hermione, who had been taking a drink nearly choked and spit it all out. His ginger eyebrows going up and down were no help either. She glared upon seeing the smug look on his face, his arms crossing over his chest.

"You're just hoping for that to appease your own conscious—you married _my_ best friend, after all." Now it was his turn to roll his eyes.

"Look—your relationship with Harry was a sore subject during our marriage, and it wasn't for nothing. If someone as daft as I could see it, how could someone as brilliant as you not realize it? All those years I wondered to myself why on Merlin's beard I had to have feelings for you and why you were so stubborn to stick with me. You loved me in your way, I know that now—but for you, it was always him like I've always been the one for Luna."

"Ron—" Hermione tried to interrupt but he motioned with his hand for her to stay quiet a moment.

"I'm not trying to _appease_ my conscious, Hermione. We'd been divorced for two years and I was always faithful to you, I know that, you know that. What I really want is for my two best mates to be happy, like I am now with Luna. We were so young when we courted and decided to marry, it was one and done without considering other options out there, Harry and Ginny the same thing…" Ron reached over and captured her hand in his. "What I'm trying to say is that you don't need to worry about me or my feelings nor does Harry have to worry about respecting my sister's memory or whatever, just allow yourselves to be happy!"

Hermione sighed deeply, recognizing internally that for some bonkers reason she needed Ron's validation, but he wasn't quite grasping at the real problem.

" _Ronald_ , nothing is holding me back but Harry himself!" Hermione said a bit too loudly with a tone of exasperation. When Luna came back into the living room wearing a slightly worried expression, Hermione knew to lower her voice just for them. "He's the one who has to figure out what he wants and what his feelings are. I'm waiting for him and I'm probably stupid enough to wait for him forever if necessary." With that, she took another swig of her wine while Luna and Ron shared a look.

"'Mione, do you reckon we could talk some sense into that thick brain of his?" Ron asked.

"Please don't." She said, in resignation. Luna wrapped an arm around her shoulders to comfort her. "It's not the end of the world you two. I'm perfectly happy on my own."

"Of course, not a soul more independent and resilient than yours, Hermione," Ron said, putting an end to the subject.

…

The following day, Hermione opened up her bookshop and took over the morning shift. However busy she was and constantly on her feet, Ron's words wouldn't leave her mind. What had he meant about her independence and resilience? None of those qualities were untrue about her, that she could think of. Before she could reflect any further on it, a face that she hadn't seen in weeks despite their proximity came her way.

"Hermione."

"Mother." The older woman rolled her eyes and huffed. Obstinacy and pride were flaws they both carried in equal abundance.

"Oh, child, I have missed you!" She cried out suddenly. "For heaven's sake, it's been weeks and I'm too bloody old for this. I am sorry, I really am and it's been eating at my conscious."

"Good, then," Hermione said impassively. Helena frowned and inhaled deeply for a moment, locking her brown eyes with those of her daughter.

"I didn't mean for him to leave or to ruin everything for you. I'm your mother, all I want is to help you and see you happy. Have you never made mistakes with Hugo or Rose? Is the almighty witch Hermione flawless in every way?"

"I don't see how saying _horrible_ things to me is supposed to earn you forgiveness…" Hermione responded grimly, torturing her mother just a little bit, though inside she was holding her laughter and had already forgiven her a long time ago.

The curly haired witch watched with amusement as her mother's face changed from one of indignation, then to frustration and finally to one of annoyance.

"I have given my apologies Hermione Jean, now if you cannot find it in you to forgive me, that's your burden to carry." Hermione raised a brow feigning skepticism and for the entirety of two minutes both Granger women battled in what looked like a staring contest before Hermione smiled and chuckled, completely surprising her mother, whose eyes went wide and then turned into a reprimanding glare.

"I'll forgive you if you bake me those brownies I like." Then just like that, all the ice melted, the corners of Helena's burgundy-painted lips betrayed her and she opened up her purse to reveal a plastic container filled to the brim with her daughter's favorite dessert, the witch's brown eyes twinkling.

" _Like?!_ Hermione, how offensive!" Helena exclaimed, theatrically, though in reality, she was all smiles. "Here I thought that you loved, revered, absolutely adored my brownies with hazelnuts!"

"You know I do, mum." Hermione rolled her eyes as was her usual and took hold of her dessert. "I'll go fetch us some tea and milk. Mrs. Weasley will hate me for arriving at Luna and Ron's baby shower with my stomach full, but I don't care one bit." She rushed over to Susan's café in a corner of the bookshop while her mother laughed, fingers dexterously typing on her phone to let her worried husband know that all was settled between them.

…

A plump, ginger-haired witch watched with eyes of concern from the little window facing her kitchen sink her grandchildren enjoying a perfectly bright and warm summer day in the vast fields of her home. It felt like it had been just yesterday that her own children had been there, frolicking about such as them and if she squinted her eyes just a bit, the images blurring ever so slightly Molly Weasley could perfectly envision the five tall redheaded boys were Percy, Bill, Charlie, and the twins while little Hugo and Rose were the perfect images of who Ronald and her darling Ginevra had been.

Mothers were fiercely loving beings who always want to see their children grow into the perfect persons they had envisioned them being from birth. That was why they were also universally prone to meddling, nagging and complaining. Now, in her old age and having buried two of her seven loves, she regretted not having motivated, complimented, cherished and given them love in equal measure. When she lost her Fred sixteen years ago, she had thought a piece of her was gone and dead forever along with him, but with time she had been able to go on and mend that ghastly scar on her heart. In those times they'd all been busy rebuilding their world following the war, she had concentrated on her children who were still living, the eldest sons who had returned home, the arrival of the first grandchildren who she had a good hand in raising while the parents worked—she'd been busy and that had helped, but it still always hurt, no matter how many years passed. A child without parents was an orphan, but what word is there to describe a parent who has lost her child? She could think of none, because it wasn't the natural way of things.

At night, when she was in the twilight dividing wake and slumber it was her Fred's face she would see and it was his laughter she would hear. And then, when she had finally been able to find a new and quite happy balance to life, Ginevra's death came suddenly, with the full force of a speeding, fuming cargo train, so fast and heavy it crashed into her very own being.

The war had been over for so long, what could possibly explain her baby girl's demise?

Over a year had gone by and she still hadn't found her answer, probably never would. Molly Weasley was proud of and loved all of her six sons with a passion, but that little girl of beautiful red hair had been her life's one greatest desire. When she'd married Arthur so long ago, in a time so remote that she'd been young and pretty, the two would daydream about her, the determination in her eyes, the freckles, the button nose, the sturdy legs, the laugh, the scent of wildflowers, the princess dresses, sunshine, sweet butterfly kisses and all things lovely. Ginny had been all they'd ever wanted in life and their sons were living proof that they were adamant their dream would come to fruition. Ginevra had been that dream entirely and beyond. Her death had knocked all life away from her father, who was just a ghost of the man he once was, and Molly, ever strong, persistent and stubborn still held everything and everyone together, though it didn't feel like her life had any meaning anymore. She no longer could find happiness in her life, at least the kind she remembered experiencing so many times in her life—there was no possibility of it while her daughter wasn't here. Everything came with more difficulty now, smiles, laughter, sleep, appetite, energy, even magic. Sometimes she couldn't remember the most elementary of spells or sometimes she could, but wasn't able to cast them…

But she and Arthur hadn't been the only ones to suffer from Ginny's passing—there were her beautiful children too, James, Albus and Lily who missed her a great deal, but there was also the raven-haired husband, who for every day of this week they'd spent here at the Burrow had made his way to her tombstone in the orchard. Children were resilient and stronger than adults gave them credit for and though they would always miss their mother, at one point they'd move on. But Harry, he carried his heart on his sleeve because of her. He not only missed Ginevra, but he had loved her with the intensity of a first love and with a passion and endurance so very great. Probably if she hadn't died, he'd be married to her until _his_ grave.

But fate wasn't on their side, she now believed, because she could feel a change in the air even if she couldn't yet wrap her finger around it.

Merlin knows how Molly loved, cherished and welcomed Harry Potter into her family like the eighth child she never knew she needed. The day of his engagement to Ginny, here at the Burrow on a rainy Easter day, it had been the happiest day of her life since the war. Her dream of one, big Weasley family would come true, they would all be together forever, in sickness and health, for rich and for poor… Harry would officially become her son. And what a wonderful son he had always been! He was a bit clumsy and shy at times, especially when it came to affection and he always ate too damn little, but she loved him, still did and despite everything was thankful. When Ginny died a part of her irrationally thought he would leave and never look back, carrying her grandchildren with him, as Hermione had after the divorce, but he hadn't, Harry stayed and had been present at the Burrow almost every family Sunday, every birthday, Christmas, Easter or whichever special occasion to be celebrated.

She and Arthur were old, they had done quite their bit, not that Harry with the life he'd been born into hadn't done his, but he was young, opposite of them, and he still had so much life ahead of him! Molly wished to see him smiling and happy again and though it pained her and made her fearful, she also wished and hoped he could find love for and in another woman as well.

…

When Harry emerged from his shared bedroom with Ginny at the Burrow after a much-needed shower and rest, following the kids' getting ready the living room had become crowded with Weasley's and friends alike, all gathered around to celebrate the arrival of a new member of their numerous family. Seeing Luna positively glowing and so happy dressed in her pleated peach dress and Ron with a grin as wide as a crescent moon, it made him feel lighter. He knew the sensation very well, the expectation, all of the love and good wishes, but also the nervousness that came with a new little life to care for. Immediately he spotted his children, all three engrossed in playing with their older cousins, although he hadn't seen Rose or Hugo since earlier, and with them busy playing outside and him mostly inside, they hadn't yet the opportunity to chat.

He greeted a few old friends, Neville and Hannah, Susan Bones accompanied by her fiancée Padma Patil. He said hello to Parvati and Dean who carried their son proudly for all to see. Seamus waved to him from the other side of the room from where he chatted with George and Angelina. Fleur and Bill along with their daughters both came to speak to him, Fleur's accent having become less pronounced with the years and the girls with their exquisite part-Veela looks and strawberry blonde hairs were much taller and grown than last Christmas.

Finally, his eyes landed on a young lad of bright blue hair seated by the window, watching the sunset. Harry smiled because it felt like forever since he'd seen Teddy, who more than a godson he loved like his own flesh and blood. Sixteen years old, prefect, a disgrace at Quidditch but a wonder at transfiguration, a bit shy and introverted, much like his father had been, but also funny as hell around those he loved and was comfortable with, just like his mum.

"Uncle Harry!" He said with surprise in his voice, once he noticed the wizard standing near him. Before he could get up, Harry engulfed him in a bone-crushing hug he had learned with a certain friend.

"I've missed you, son," Harry mumbled. "You haven't written to me half as much this year!" He admonished with a grin once they parted. Before Teddy could elaborate any excuse, Andromeda Tonks' voice bellowed from behind them, amidst the crowd with laughter, having had a bit more firewhiskey than she would usually permit herself:

"Us both then, Harry! Our Teddy here only has eyes for his classes and some mysterious young witch no one seems to know the name of." Harry chuckled as he watched his godson blush a beet red and his hair turn into a subdued violet that usually meant he was embarrassed. "Please talk some sense into his brain, Potter! Molly, Minerva and Pomona are waiting for me in the kitchen for our game of wizarding bridge."

"Granny's aged _substantially_ as you may have noticed," Teddy said with a snicker which earned him a glare from his grandmother and also a whack to his arm, the pain of which he clumsily his with a chuckle. Harry couldn't help but roll his eyes at their antics and as he did it, he suddenly realized he'd been doing it more and more, probably influenced by Hermione.

And then, because Harry simply could not help it, she was back on the forefront of his mind again. The sneaky witch.

"Ted, jokes apart, I really _have_ missed you. I wish we could spend some time together this summer, just the two of us, like in old times." Teddy smiled widely at the prospect, his eyes shining. Harry felt a pang to his heart. With his marriage, work and younger children he had allowed less and less alone time between them both throughout the years. Thinking of the time when he was a young boy and just how much he had craved for the greater company of his own godfather, Sirius, and even Remus, he felt terribly guilty.

"I would love that very much, uncle Harry!"

"Great, I'll owl you when everything's settled, I have a good place to show you and that I've been meaning to revisit for a while."

"Oh, I still have the rest of summer, any time and place are fine! Granny's been so busy with the Headmistress and aunt Hermione preparing for the Tenby public audience next week that I don't think we'll be making any trips this month or the next. And your birthday is just around the corner isn't it?" Harry nodded, his hands buried in the pockets of his muggle jeans.

"Oh, I didn't know that…" Teddy shrugged. Before the boy, whose hair was now the bright magenta of excitement could say anything else, Victoire Weasley, accompanied by other older Weasley boys shouted his name and Harry excused his godson so that the boy could go spend some time with his friends.

"'Ello, mate!" Harry heard and as he turned around came face to face with the beaming figure of Ron Weasley, with his hand on his shoulder. The two exchanged a pat on the back and Ron smartly placed a cool glass of butterbeer in his hand. "Glad to see you here…" Harry rolled his eyes and chuckled.

"What do you want, mate?" Ron grinned with blue eyes shining like a little boy in a candy shop and for a split-second, Harry was afraid of what he would do or say, you could never trust a Weasley who worked at a joke shop. Ron's response was the silliest of giggles, before he pointed with his chin in the direction of the fireplace, from where a gorgeous looking Hermione Granger wearing a colorful summer dress had flooed in.

Harry's heart skipped a beat as he saw her, the first time since Tenby, the first time in a month that felt more like forty years. Seeing her again was like stopping in time, all of the people surrounding them disappearing into a blur, all of the noises, loud conversations and music quieting down until it was just the two of them, eyes locked intensely, across the Burrow's living room from one another. If at first, his heart had skipped a beat, now it was as strong as a horse and as fast as lightning. He felt himself grow infinitely warmer and it was all very overwhelming, but the good type of overwhelming.

Little did he know that she felt just the same.


	11. Chapter 11

Sunday, July 27th, 2014

When their eyes locked immediately upon Hermione's arrival it had felt to her oddly like coming home after years adrift on an abandoned island. It felt like being able to take that first gasp of air after a record amount of time underwater. Her chest heaved as if she'd ran a marathon, her cheeks colored. But then, a rush of contradictory emotions overcame her, an amalgam of joy and bitterness as well as anger and an overwhelming desire to launch herself into his arms but also cause him pain for all that she'd been hurting since he left Tenby. Hermione was a proud woman, she had done her part and now their fate was up to him. Perhaps the anger and bitterness due to his leaving Tenby and over his stupid confused brain were greater than she'd realized…

She nodded in Harry's direction, thick dark eyebrows furrowed, wearing a frown, honey curls crowning her features as they fell attractively from her updo. To Harry, she looked like an incensed goddess, such as the ones you would see at the Louvre. He nodded back uneasily, knowing she was upset with him, and with reason. Hermione then turned on her heels and went about the party as if she hadn't seen him at all, the little minx that he knew she was.

Harry heard Ron snicker from beside him, his mate patting his shoulder rather strongly, laughing, the tension between his two mates not going unnoticed by him or just about anyone in the party that had cared to watch.

"At least she didn't conjure a flock of mad canaries to eat you alive, mate, I'll give you that." Ron exclaimed and Harry couldn't help his lips curving upwards into a humored smile. That had indeed been a memorable sight.

All through the night, he couldn't shake how haughty and utterly attractive she looked, the dress hugging her features elegantly. He wanted nothing but to kiss the soft milky skin of her exposed neckline and shoulders like he knew she adored.

…

Later in the evening, Hermione sat on the bottom step that led to the Weasley's vast outdoors sipping on a glass of rosé, enjoying the cool breeze and the quiet. Seeing Harry had brought to the surface again all of those messy feelings she'd been too busy the past few days to acknowledge, what with the Tenby case and rekindling her friendship with Ron and Luna. But there was no escape was there? She watched the stillness of the night with interest, a few fire torches scattered here and there in the yard so that the children could go on playing and sadly not too many stars up in the sky tonight.

It didn't take long for Hugo accompanied by Lily to find her and run in her direction.

"Mummy!" He called out with excitement, Lily's hand holding onto his. "We saw fireflies in the garden!" The witch sat her glass down and rubbed chocolate icing off of Hugo's cheeks with her fingers, ruffling his ginger curls. Her son's brown eyes were twinkling with excitement, he was always happy when with Lily, his greatest companion, aside from the few moments when they'd get in a fight and wrestle each other like a pair of baby kittens, rolling and tumbling on the ground. She rolled her eyes and smiled affectionately at the thought.

"That's lovely, Hugh!" Hermione kissed him on the cheek and he smiled, pleased with himself.

"There were hundreds of them!" Lily exclaimed twirling around with arms stretched wide to emphasize her point, wearing her pink and glittery party dress. The little girl launched herself in Hermione's embrace, wrapping her arms around her neck and snuggling in. Hermione held Lily against her and ran her fingers through her ginger hair lovingly while Hugo sat next to them, leaning against her arm, his tiredness from playing all day beginning to show. Lily practically purred from Hermione's caresses.

"I missed you," Lily told her, tracing her finger gently around Hermione's features. Her brown eyes locked with the little girl's and her heart fluttered, overwhelmed with love and affection for her.

"I missed you too, my Lily. I missed you more than the size of the moon…" Hermione replied, planting a soft kiss on Lily's forehead. She pulled out her trusted beaded purse. "But this here has made things a bit less terrible…" Hermione pulled the lilac-colored baby blankie from inside and returned it to its regular size with a simple spell. She handed it to Lily who took it in her hands and smiled, hugging the blankie against her chest and taking in its soothing scent of lavender, fresh laundry and now of Hermione as well.

After a few seconds, Lily turned up and gazed at her aunt in a way that was different than she ever did before, even Hermione could feel the intensity of the child's gaze. There was adoration in it, but it was much more than that. Five-year-old Lily Potter hadn't the vocabulary to describe that moment, or the necessity, perhaps, but sitting there in Hermione's lap, the witch's arms wrapped around her in a both loving and protecting manner, her dark eyes so pretty and the curls Lily's fingers played with so soft, the little girl knew she had found the part that was missing. Her heart thumped rapidly in her chest and her cheeks burned from the exhilaration. She smiled and buried her little face in Hermione's bosom, never wanting to leave.

Hermione held Lily against her and inhaled her soft scent of lavender, baby and sunshine, every once in a while placing a gentle kiss on the girl's ginger hair, as she did with both her children in snuggly moments such as this one. Soon she began to rock Lily back and forth, humming a lullaby tune that Hugo and Rosie were all too familiar with. Brahms's maybe… Lily stayed there so still and quiet Hermione almost thought she'd fallen asleep, she knew Hugo who she had wrapped an arm around cuddling him to her side was almost snoring.

Once again, she looked up at the stars and this time felt perfectly serene, what with her two babies pressed close to her and so peacefully. She had needed this respite after a turbulent few weeks.

Hermione Granger had never imagined herself to grow up and be the mother hen type, not to this degree anyway. She'd always idealized herself as a successful and work-driven career woman, with children, a house and a husband, sure, but never expecting herself to relish these types of moments so much, and perhaps it was something she'd honed with the years. All the time Hermione regretted not being more present in Rose and Hugo's baby years but she did her best to make up for it now, Merlin knew… And Lily, goodness she loved Lily, just as she loved James and Albie as well as if she had gestated and birthed them herself, no different than Hugo and Rose. Perhaps it was this way because the lot of them, Harry, Ginny, Ron and herself, had once been so inseparable and she and Ginny had fallen pregnant just about simultaneously twice. They'd lived next door to one another for so long and the kids were always so close that it had been easy to think of them as almost siblings. Her divorce from Ron had violently popped that little bubble; she left the ministry and uprooted herself and the two kids who were biologically hers and left that life behind. It hadn't been easy at all… The pain of separation not only from Ron but the Weasley's, Harry and Ginny nearly killed her because they were her family, the people she loved most in the world and who knew her best. Despite the distance, however, there were some bonds that seemed impossible to break, and hers with Harry and his children, hell, even with Ron and Luna were proof of that. Never once though, until recently, had she imagined her feelings for her best friend Harry to become so intensely romantic, but it happened and it hurt and made her angry because it only complicated her life further and she was so damn afraid of ruining everything—their lives, their friendship, their history…

"Lily Luna!" Molly Weasley's voice shouted from the door, startling her and the little ones. "You haven't eaten a thing yet darling!"

Hermione felt Lily grasp onto her harder, not wanting to let go, her warm breath against the skin of her neck beginning to make Hermione sweat.

"You have to eat, love…" She reasoned, but Lily shook her head. "You know granny Molly's food is delicious…" Lily sighed heavily and untangled herself from Hermione, eyebrows furrowed, rubbing any trace of tears from her eyes, though they glistened. Molly watched them with interest as she held the door open, waiting for Lily to come inside.

"I don't want to leave you again, Mummy…" Lily replied as if it were the most normal, ordinary, natural thing in the world to call Hermione by. Lily's comment shocked both Hermione and Molly, whose eyes went as wide as saucers, and even little Hugo who tugged on his mother's hand alarmed and asked with a voice full of wonder and surprise:

"Mummy, are you Lily's mummy too?!" Hermione hadn't the heart to say 'no', as to not hurt the little girl's feelings, though deep within her heart she didn't mind at all being called 'mummy' by Lily, in fact, it made her feel like the luckiest witch alive. But she couldn't possibly say 'yes' either, for obvious reasons. That way, she did what most mothers do when cornered into an uncomfortable question: she dodged the bullet.

"Why don't the three of us go inside to see what the others are up to? Lily, I'm afraid I'm going to have to make you eat, love, your granny's brisket looked absolutely delicious and with the mashes…" Lily frowned and grumbled but nodded obediently, instantly getting up and lacing her fingers with Hermione's, marching on and pulling the witch along. Hugo grabbed on to his mum's other hand and they went up the steps, Hermione's dress wrinkly and tear-stained, but she didn't care.

Hermione walked past Mrs. Weasley avoiding her gaze as if the matriarch were Medusa the Gorgon herself. The children followed her inside like two little shadows, Lily carrying her beloved blankie with her.

Molly perfectly sensed Hermione's unease and suddenly she felt her own blood pressure go down. So this was the change in the air she had been feeling! Now Molly was certain that Harry and her grandchildren's time visiting Hermione had been a lot more eventful than she had expected. But what had changed so drastically that now Lily felt compelled to call Hermione 'mummy' instead of auntie as she'd always done? The elderly witch desperately needed a good shot of firewhiskey, and right now!

…

The party ended at nearly midnight, with the Potter boys being ushered into the bedroom by a tired and frustrated Harry while Lily cried and screamed so heartbreakingly on the floor by the fireplace in the living room because Hermione had left almost twenty minutes ago with Hugo and Rose on tow, leaving her behind. Nothing had been able to make the child stop and her father and grandparents had never seen her throw a fit this big.

Molly went into the kitchen, hands shaking from the nerves and began to prepare a nice calming chamomile tea by the stove in the hopes that it would help her granddaughter and herself as well to calm down. Arthur sat with cheek resting on his palm at the table, dismayed, tracing the embroideries on the tablecloth with his fingers.

"You've been awfully quiet, dear…" He finally said, after a long sigh. Molly paused and turned to look at him wearing a deep frown, tears filling her eyes.

"Can't you see how your granddaughter is crying so badly after you know who?" Molly's lips trembled and her voice hitched, "She didn't cry half that hard when her mother passed…"

"That was well over a year ago, dear, the girl was too little and didn't understand." Arthur reasoned. "And there's no need for our Hermione to be referred to as you know who, she did nothing wrong."

"I know, I know…" Molly gave the leaves in the pan a gentle stir. "It's just that children are smarter than we give them credit for, they can feel things... Lily sees Hermione as much more than just her auntie now."

"Hmm. And does it bother you?" Arthur asked. Molly turned off the stove and paused to think for a moment.

"Well, I cannot lie and say it doesn't," Her voice trembled and she paused, both hands gripping at the countertop for support, her back to her husband. A split second later she felt her husband's large hand wrapping around her shoulder soothingly. Lily's cries could still be heard from the other room. "I'm afraid she'll forget about our Ginny…" Molly said in a breathless cry. Tears fell from her eyes as she shook from the intensity of her sobs. Arthur pulled his wife of almost fifty years into his arms, embracing her tight against him and rubbing gentle circles on her back.

"As long as we are here and so are Lily's brothers, uncles, and even Harry, she will never forget about her mother, Molly, never. I'm sure even Hermione wouldn't allow for it. The witch may be headstrong and smarter than everyone in this house put together but she is a mum too and has a great big heart. I don't think there's anyone else I would trust more to raise our grandchildren…"

"You think so, dear?" She sniffled.

"I know so, love." She nodded in understanding, her heart aching, but much more at ease now. How blessed she was to have her Arthur! "Now, let me pour that tea in a mug for our Lily and you go to bed now. All will be fine, I promise." Arthur placed a reassuring kiss on her forehead before taking the warm drink to the little girl who lay in her father's arms on the sofa in the other room, sobbing into her blankie, hot tears drying on her cheeks. Harry and Arthur shared a look of concern and the older wizard with his soothing raspy voice spoke to his grandchild.

"Now, now darling, take a sip of this delicious tea… You'll see your cousins very soon, I promise." Lily was still out of breath from the intensity of her sobs, but took a careful sip and Arthur patted her head and hummed in appreciation. "Granddad doesn't like seeing his Lily so sad, it breaks his heart…" Lily sniffled apologetically, her eyes gleaming with tears locking with his. To Lily Potter, granddad's eyes were just like her mum Ginny's and she liked them, they made her feel safe and sound.

After finishing her tea and being soothed and cooed to sleep by her grandfather downstairs Harry carried his daughter up to Ginny's room that they all shared when at the Burrow and helped her into her pajamas, tucking her in next to Albus who was wide awake, green eyes following his dad's every movement, James snoring at his other side.

"Dad?" The boy whispered, looking at him with worry.

"Yes, Albie?"

"Aunt 'Mione looked very lovely today…" Harry paled and froze for a moment and then let out a sigh brushing the boy's overgrown bangs away from his eyes.

"Yes, indeed she did…" Harry couldn't help but blush slightly at the thought of Hermione, especially in that dress.

She was beautiful, always had been, just needed to be reminded of it once in a while. His thoughts wandered to that night in Tenby, of her dressed in ivory-colored silk pajamas, how natural and absolutely gorgeous she looked. He thought of her delicious scent of vanilla, of the moonlight shining in from the crack in the window, the softness of her skin against his… Harry had longed for her today, even if just to hear her voice directed toward him but he had been duly ignored. He understood the message she was sending him, that he needed to figure his feelings out. He could tell she was hurting and because of him of all people…

"I don't mind dad, not at all, James too we talked about it…" Harry was dumbfounded. Before he could respond, Albus yawned, stuck his thumb in his mouth and turned over to sleep. Harry stood there for a long few moments perhaps looking like a complete tool before he hatched a plan in his mind and rushed to the desk by the window scribbling a note in a piece of parchment. Minutes later he tiptoed down the creaky wooden steps of the Burrow, now covered in darkness, and attached the message to the family owl, Fidget.

"Take this to Teddy in Hogsmeade, girl." Harry opened the window and the exquisite brown creature flew off into the night.

…

The following morning, a bright and sunny Monday, Harry sat nursing his cup of coffee, enjoying the fact that it was still rather early and the kids were still asleep, the Burrow quiet except from the sound of Arthur Weasley working on his old Ford Anglia outside, Molly had gone shopping in Diagon Alley.

He finished up his breakfast, washed and put away his dishes and made his small daily pilgrimage to the orchard. He'd found himself needing to visit Ginny more and more the past few days.

He sat by her tombstone, surrounded by multicolored wildflowers and stayed there staring at the black elegant letters spelling her name until he found something to say. Just months ago, being here with her would be enough to make him cry because he missed her so, but mainly out of his guilt, but now, each time felt much lighter, more like he was visiting an old friend, an old but pleasant memory. It was bittersweet, to be here, full of life yet to live, full of love in his heart and hope as well, when now she was probably a pile of dust and bone buried in the ground. If ever there was a heaven or paradise of sorts Harry was positive, she'd be there, enchanting everything and everyone with her bubbly laugh, her long and luscious red hair and all of that energy she carried. He smiled tenderly at the thought.

Harry no longer cried or felt miserable being here and he suspected that had a lot to do with moving on, finally, but also being so deeply enraptured by the new feelings he felt for Hermione, his best friend of almost a lifetime. He felt younger and much more energized than he felt in years, he felt he might explode from the anticipation of just seeing her, reading the elegant cursive of her writing on paper, hearing the sound of her voice, her loud and unapologetic laugh… Harry knew that he was in love with Hermione, there was no more doubt in his mind, not when she was 80% of what was happening in his mind anyway… The rest was just living on automatic, making sure the kids were all right and guilt. Complete and utter guilt. It's what was holding him from living the full potential of this amazing new love of his, of finding happiness again.

Harry's thoughts were interrupted by footsteps approaching, grass and dry leaves on the ground crushing beneath each step. He looked behind him and saw the tall and lean, but also aged figure of Arthur Weasley, his wand in hand and a khaki safari hat on his head to shade his face from the intensity of the summer's sun.

"Harry, Teddy's arrived to see you, son…" He informed the bespectacled younger wizard with a small and shy smile. Arthur was always a man of few words, opposite of his wife who simply had a lot to say and always, but Harry had always admired him deeply.

"We're going camping a few days, just us…" Harry informed him and Arthur nodded.

"Molly told me. Shame you don't want to celebrate your birthday here this year, kids'll miss you." Harry sighed and nodded, but it was something he needed to do, to make peace in his conscious and heart so he could move on.

"I need to be alone a few days, away from the kids, to think…" Harry tried to explain but Arthur shook a hand, not caring to hear his explanation. To Harry's surprise, the man opened into a large smile accompanied by a laugh, his eyes shining with unshed tears.

"Son, I raised seven children, I completely understand the need for alone time." Harry smiled. "I-I, Molly and I shared some words last night…" He trailed off, a blush coloring his cheeks. "It was impossible not to notice you and Hermione last night, a lot of tension out of nowhere and you didn't even exchange words. You're in love…" It wasn't a question, but a statement and Harry froze for what felt like a lifetime, speechless. "Your eyes and hers betray you both, awful actors the lot of you." Arthur let out a hoarse chuckle. "I couldn't help but notice you've been coming here every day since you arrived and honestly, it's been two weeks…"

"I've been needing to talk to her…" Harry tried to explain.

"Harry, you don't need her permission or approval to move on. Ginevra is dead, she's gone, but you my boy," Arthur's finger pointed to his chest, pressing it against his shirt to make a point, "you are alive and you deserve to make the best of it and be happy, for the both of you and for your children." Tears were falling from Arthur's eyes now and he sniffed, wiping them away.

"She could've still been here, had I not fucked everything up…" Harry stated and to Arthur, it was like a heavy blow to the gut. He furrowed his brows deeply, in confusion.

"It wasn't you who killed Ginny, there is no guilt to be had!" He exclaimed, hands grasping at both of Harry's shoulders, forcing the younger wizard to look him in the eye.

"I wasn't with her, I could've been, I could have saved her…" Arthur shook his head and sighed heavily.

"Than that makes two of us, my boy, because I loved Ginevra with all my heart, still do, and wasn't there either. She was killed, taken from us from some barmy lunatic who thought himself a righteous follower of the dark lord, a lunatic who is now rotting in Azkaban because you hunted him down, had him go to trial and be sent there for the rest of his wretched life. You did your part, there is no guilt to be had, Harry!" Arthur tried to reason, talk some sense into his son in law's thick knuckleheaded brain. A few seconds later the Weasley patriarch spoke again, but with a sternness usually reserved for his children in his deep voice:

"I'm glad you'll be spending these next few days away with our Teddy, Merlin knows you've really got to think because honestly, I didn't expect you to be this daft, the boy who lived, the wizard who bloody conquered for bloody fuck's sake. You and Hermione love each other, she loves the children, the children love her and I swear on my magic Harry, if it means anything to you, Molly and I approve!" Harry couldn't help but laugh, the corners of his eyes crinkling because now he could perfectly see who Ron got it from as Arthur marched off, swearing under his breath.

…

"Bloody hell it's beautiful…" Harry exclaimed as he looked at the huge expanse of greenery and the rivers surrounding it from high up, perched on the Firebolt broom he hadn't flown on in years. Teddy rode on his own broom next to him, with his camping backpack strapped on, equally mesmerized.

"Where are we?" Teddy's hair was an electric blue.

"This is the Forest of Dean, Ted. Last time I was here everything was covered in snow and life was hell, utterly miserable hell."

"The war." Harry nodded. "Aunt Hermione told me of this place once, that you camped out here hiding from the deatheaters as you searched for whatever it was you were searching to defeat him."

"Yeah, exactly that… Shall we swoop in?" Harry sped off on his broom and Teddy followed suit, his slight fear of height making all kinds of butterflies flutter in his abdomen.

The flew into the forest, in and out of the labyrinth of trees, treetops tangling one with the other creating a canopy of bright greens, the golden sunlight streaming in from between the branches. It was glorious and nothing like Teddy had ever seen. They could hear the river running even from afar and the rustling below of wildlife, deer and wild boars, birds of all kinds chirping.

A good half hour later they came to a stop near a lake, its placid green waters reflecting the surrounding forest like a giant mirror. Teddy hopped off of his broom as his godfather did and the two took in the view in a long moment of silence.

"It was right here…"

"What?"

"That your uncle Ron saved me from freezing to death. He'd left us after a fight, the pressure, cold, hunger and strain on all of us too great, but then he returned and it was wonderful."

"Were you angry that he left you and aunt Hermione alone?" Harry nodded.

"I was but honestly couldn't blame him. If I weren't the dark lord's target, I would have fled myself, I think, but I had no choice."

"Aunt Hermione could have left too…"

"She could have, yes, but she's a lot stronger than Ron and I put together, hell, I don't know why or how she was able to sacrifice so much for me, since the day we met."

"Isn't it obvious?" Harry turned to look at his godson who had paused the assembling of their muggle tent for a moment to look at his godfather with the typical teenage matter-of-fact look, hints of debauchery in his eyes.

"What is obvious?"

"Aunt Hermione loved you, that's why she did what she did."

"Well, yes, I'm sure she loved me and I loved her, but I don't think she was in love with me yet. Back then she was smitten with Ron and I loved her like a sister.

"Have you ever asked her?" Harry shook his head.

"Why not?"

"Because it's impossible, she married Ron. I married Ginny we all had kids, life became the mess it is now and we're both headed to age forty," he chuckled and Teddy fought the urge to roll his eyes. "Anyway, you finish up the tent, is that all right? Sun will be setting soon and we'll need a fire."

"Yeah, sure, I'm almost done." Harry nodded awkwardly, both busying themselves with their individual tasks.

…

They watched the sunset together, in companionable silence as Teddy spent the rest of the afternoon regaling Harry with tales of his Hogwarts life, his classes, professors and friends, his latest Hogsmeade weekend and eventful care of magical creatures class where he helped Hagrid tend to old Buckbeak. Later in the evening, they ate the grilled fishes they'd caught from the lake, sipping on the pumpkin juice Andromeda had packed for them.

"Earlier you were going on about how back then you and aunt 'Mione weren't in love, so are you now?"

"I, umm, I believe so, yes." Harry stuttered slightly and Teddy chuckled.

"Your trip to the beach with her?" Harry nodded. "Everyone was speculating about it…" Harry raised a quizzical brow at the younger boy's comment. Noticing his expression Teddy went on to explain.

"Because you were always so close, I suppose and because aunt Ginny was always so jealous of the two of you together."

"She was?" Harry asked, alarmed and Teddy smacked his own face with his palm, groaning.

"Yes, she was jealous! I can't believe you didn't notice! She would grow all quiet and red in the face, and she would stomp about muttering Merlin knows what. Whenever you and aunt Hermione would go into a room together or do something alone, she would act all suspicious and try to overhear or peek as if none of us others would notice. Ever since I was little, she was like that."

"I never noticed…" Teddy shrugged.

"I think she could feel it…"

"What?"

"That what you had was more special." Harry frowned, staring into the fire. They silently cleaned things up later and retreated into their shared tent, each one slipping inside a sleeping bag.

"G' night uncle Harry… I'm really happy we came on this trip."

"Goodnight, Ted. I'm really happy too." It didn't take long for Teddy to fall asleep and begin to slightly snore, they had a long and eventful day, and yet, Harry couldn't sleep a wink after their conversation tonight.

Wednesday, July 30th, 2014

Butterflies fluttered in Hermione Granger's stomach while her thoughts at this point were a mile per hour. It was both excruciating and wonderful, the nervous energy now running through her veins, the sensation of cool sweat on her palms while her cheeks slightly flushed from just how much her heart was thumping in her chest. She looked at her reflection in the mirror—a red-lipped woman of sharp brown eyes, her usually untamable curls held up in a formal manner. She caught sight of an older woman, a friend and mentor looking at her from the entrance of her bedroom, a small smile reflected on her face. Hermione's eyes followed her every elegant movement, cat-like, as the woman stationed herself behind her helping her dress in her sapphire legal robes, still looking brand new despite almost three years of hanging abandoned in her closet.

"Today you are this town and this people's champion." The woman told her, tilting her chin a bit, hazel eyes twinkling, "The entirety of Magical Britain and even wizards overseas will have their ears pressed to their wirelesses to hear you speak…" Hermione took a sharp intake of breath, her brows furrowing. She bit her bottom lip as she usually did when nervous.

"Thank you for putting so much more pressure on me, Minerva—it's helping wonders." The older witch scoffed and shook her head with a smile playing at the corner of her lips. To Hermione, the fact that she and the headmistress were close friends enough for the older witch to be so carefree around her would never cease to be mind-blowing, no matter the number of years that passed since her graduation.

"You said it yourself during yesterday's final meeting, that you shall be straightforward and speak of the research we've been undertaking the past few years, of your personal experience and daily life," Minerva did air quotes, something Hermione never expected from her, eliciting a dry laugh and a small relief from her nervousness.

Today was the first day of the public hearing called upon by Wizengamot members and the Minister of Magic himself following the detection—which took long enough—of the peculiar way of life in Tenby between its magical, squib and muggle town folk and how magical authorities should regard and proceed in the matter. Since the end of the Second Wizarding World, changes had consistently been made to guarantee a more egalitarian magical society, between humans, creatures, and squibs as well. Many new laws and decrees had been drafted and championed by Hermione Granger herself when the head of Magical Law Enforcement and she had been the one to lobby and negotiate with members of the Wizengamot to get laws approved. All of this until her divorce and move to Tenby.

Her life back then had been endless meetings, mediation efforts, research, piles of reports and papers, legal robes and seamlessly endless court hearings. She knew exactly what to expect of today, but was also wise enough to know that despite all social reforms one thing was still a completely taboo and sensitive territory when it came to her world: the subject of integration with muggles and the protection of the Statute of Secrecy. No matter how much experience she had, Hermione had no way of knowing the outcome of this hearing. Integration was a subject that managed to make more visible the political and social divide between all magical creatures and so it worried her what the result of all this would be and mean, especially with Minister elections coming up at the end of the year.

Though since Hermione arrived and began her research in Tenby, she was fully aware that it wouldn't take long for authorities to notice the unorthodox functioning of the small town's life, she and all the Tenby Magical Association members had been taken aback by the speed in which everything came about, and these hearings had been scheduled without any possibility of negotiation. For the past weeks, the magical, squib and muggle population of Tenby that knew about magic had been preparing themselves—how to act, what to say, what to expect, which members of the wizarding parliament expected to be favorable, which ones to be the opposite…

Hermione's professional and political opinions aside, Tenby was the little corner of the world she and her family had chosen to be their home and they all loved Tenby, its quirks, its people, the colorful row houses, the stone-paved streets and the deep cobalt of its ocean. She would hate for there to be punishments of any sort or even mass obliviation—Hermione couldn't begin to imagine what could happen because all that was at play was the future, and therefore nothing in 'A History of Magic' or any other book she'd read could be of much use. How she wished she could believe in divination, tarot or anything mystical to see the future… Merlin, she almost missed professor Trelawney's class and that said a lot about this situation!

As Hermione once more examined her reflection in the mirror, she could see the spark of fear and desperation in her eyes, the very same feelings permeating her most inner thoughts. But Merlin if she wasn't determined! Hermione and the people of Tenby standing together would not go down without a fight, she was certain of it, their home and freedom depended on it.

"Twenty minutes until session starts! They're calling testifiers to take their seats and prepare for the oath…" She heard Louisa's voice come from the door. Hermione nodded, exhaled deeply and smoothed her robes one last time, before gliding across her bedroom, followed by her old professor and then flooing to the main entrance of the Wizengamot's grand courtroom, immediately being met by Regina Butterfield who kissed Hermione's cheek in a silent and nervous good luck before Hermione passed through the enormous double doors and entered the magnificent assembly room. The Wizengamot members were dressed in their elegant plum robes with matching bishop-like hats, photographers, journalists and Tenby folk, in general, filling the seats in the oval and richly adorned courtroom that had been built after the war's end, along with most of today's ministry.

"You can do this, it's only your home at play…" She muttered under her breath as she walked down the deep-blue carpeted aisle, her heart beating a mile a minute, as she continued in the direction of the witness's row at the front, facing the Wizengamot and public. Photographs of her were captured as the flash of countless cameras nearly blinded her. For a split second, as Hermione examined the crowd, her eyes locked with those of Rita Skeeter, their mutual distaste well known in perhaps all of Britain. She didn't even want to imagine the nasty words that would be written about her in tomorrow's paper… Seated next to her was Regina, dressed in a pink suit and string of pearls that momentarily reminded Hermione of the horrible Dolores Umbridge, and to be honest, it was actually quite funny. The time of Umbridge's terror felt like a different lifetime ago. She covered her lips with her hand to stifle a laugh. Regina's hands reached for Hermione's, as cold as ever from sheer nerves.

"Well good luck to us, yeah, my darling?" Hermione nodded and squeezed the woman's hand sympathetically.

"We'll be laughing about this later, Regina." She whispered feigning confidence, turning to look the woman in the eyes, a humorous smile etched to her lips. Regina snickered and shook her head in a faux display of distaste. Before she could respond, however, the barrister announced Theseus Nott, the case prosecutor to make his entrance and recite a wizarding oath. Oh, how Hermione absolutely loathed him.


	12. Hide and Seek part 1

 

* * *

_July 31st, 2014_

It was the third bright and early morning of Teddy and his godfather's camping trip. Harry snored lightly from within his own sleeping bag next to the young wizard, a hand under the pillow most possibly clutching his wand and round-framed glasses abandoned on the floor of the small tent next to him. Teddy pulled his own wand from the pocket of his jeans, strewn along the tent and cast a _Silencio_ as to not wake the sleeping man, whose reflexes were still sharp from his experience at war and the years of being an Auror.

Harry was the closest thing Ted had to a father and perhaps this was the first birthday morning that the boy had alone with the wizard, in all his life, and planning rather being in Teddy and granny Andromeda's nature, there was a small birthday treat stored safely and bound by spells deep inside his camping bag, kept chilled as not to spoil, spells cast around it to keep the scent from betraying him and the perfection that was the pie from breaking inside its box.

Teddy grabbed his backpack carefully, unzipped himself out of the tent into the daylight and for the third day in a row admired the exquisite beauty surrounding him. The forest was golden, absolutely golden that morning, soft orange sunrays invading the gaps between the branches and the leaves. The great beautiful lake which they camped by was still and the brown of the waters perfectly reflected the scenery around them like a giant mirror. Birds began to sing, woodpeckers to peck holes into the tree trunks and the squirrels were already fast at work.

Teddy pulled out the colored paper letters hanging to a very long piece of ribbon that spelled out 'Happy Birthday', careful so it wouldn't rip or fall apart. He tied one side to the branch of the tree near their fire pit and the other side to the tree a little next to it, little ants queued carrying their berries and seeds. Teddy cast an _incendio_ and lit the fire, grabbing the tin kettle they had brought along and filled it with the water from the lake for tea. He put it in the fire and finally removed the box containing the pie from his backpack, opening its lid, smiling proudly to himself as he found it to be perfectly intact. He fished out the little blue candles from the backpack pockets and covered a great deal of the pie with all thirty-four of them, which was exactly when the kettle began to whistle. Teddy laid the pie in the middle of their checkered picnic blanket, setting his teacup and saucer and then Harry's, before the yawning and stretching figure appeared from inside the tent, rubbing his emerald-green eyes and slipping on the glasses which were second nature to him.

"Huh, what's this?" He asked, looking around and noticing the party set for two. It didn't escape a happy Teddy, his hair bright lime-green to prove it, that his godfather's eyes were bright with joy. Harry smiled, genuinely surprised and Teddy awkwardly made his way towards him, still clad in his pajamas.

"Happy birthday, _old_ man!" Harry chuckled and pulled him in for a tight hug, his strong fingers ruffling Teddy's hair.

"Thank you, son… _Really._ " Harry's eyes glistened before he could notice or prevent it, his heart tightening in his chest because never in his dreams had he imagined something like this. Teddy fake coughed and Harry begrudgingly let go of him, shoving him playfully, Teddy shoving him with his shoulder back. The kettle continued to whistle and Harry pulled it out of the fire, the two sitting together on the picnic blanket between the two birthday trees.

"You're such a big baby, uncle Harry…" Teddy teased, rolling his eyes the way teenagers so often did. Harry shrugged and nodded, agreeing with him in a way.

"I never had this sort of thing when I was little, Ted… It took me years until I discovered what actual friendship and family was and even then, my birthday was never much of a happy occasion, on the contrary, it has always been a reminder of all the terrible things that have happened in my life… I'm really grateful to you right now, Ted, because you just made it wonderful, absolutely wonderful and I'm _so_ happy I have you in my life." Harry squeezed Ted's shoulder affectionately and Teddy couldn't help but feel slightly embarrassed. He had read books and countless interviews, he had heard people telling him stories all his life, but it never occurred to him to think that July 31st was such a grim day in his godfather's life. Not knowing exactly what to say, the boy stared at the pumpkin pie sitting there and lit all of the candles carefully with his wand.

"Make a wish, uncle Harry!" He urged, and Harry inhaled deeply, for a few seconds deliberating on what he wanted. Teddy had no idea, but when Harry closed his eyes what he saw were Hermione's brown eyes shining, the corners crinkling, her cheeks red from laughter; his vision then changed into one of her sitting in her favorite armchair by the window overlooking the sea, a thick and dusty book on her lap, brows furrowed and bottom lip being bitten out of concentration, toes buried in a soft blanket, while her wild curls were piled on top of her head knotted around her wand. And then, Harry saw them all, Teddy included, seated around the long wooden table in her kitchen, even the Granger's and Perdita the owl there, a feast set before them, all joyful conversations and smiles, while his arm wrapped around her shoulders, him whispering something in her ear that made her snicker and roll her eyes—a life still unnoticeable blossoming in her womb. That was what he wished for, _her_ , and their beautiful, crazy family, with more children between them than they could count with a handful. He blew all thirty-four candles hoping, and in a way certain, that sooner or later the fates would have his wish granted.

Harry pulled out a Swiss pocketknife from his pocket that he always brought along with him when camping, just because it was so useful and pulling the candles out cut them two large slices while Teddy poured them both their tea and they ate in pleasant companionship. It didn't take long for a few owls to pay them a visit, carrying Harry's gifts. In came an elegant leather-bound journal from Neville, a bottle of excellent decade-old French wine from Bill and Fleur, several boxes of chocolate, tickets to the upcoming Quidditch World Cup finals from Ron, Molly and Arthur, and lastly, the gifts he looked forward to the most: the cards from his children. This year there was even a card from Rosie, while Lily and Hugo's was still sticky with white glue and glitter, but he adored it just the same seeing their colorful scribbles and crooked handwriting.

As Harry admired each of his presents, he passed them on for Teddy to take a look and the boy sure had a laugh when he caught sight of the kids' artwork. When he finally read the last card aloud, this one a particularly funny one from George and Angelina, he looked around and then gazed at his uncle questioningly.

"Where's Aunt Hermione's gift?" Harry shrugged.

"Perhaps it's on its way…" Teddy nodded, though finding it strange. He really didn't think someone like aunt Hermione could possibly forget or send her birthday gift late, nothing ever really escaped the witch, as far as Teddy knew. Knowing things between his godfather and his best friend were rather complicated lately, her preferred not to comment further or even dwell on the subject. Instead, he _accioed_ his wireless and turned it on, an old song by the weird sisters playing that Harry sang along to, knowing it by heart. When the song was over, they were both collecting their dishes and things to clean, planning to go on the last hike before they returned home when the official tune of the Ministry of Magic began playing and the reporter announced the last day of the Tenby Town public hearing and trials.

"Did he say Tenby?" Harry asked, turning his head to face his godson, eyes sharp.

"Yeah, yeah he did. It's aunt Hermione's trial isn't it?" before Harry could confirm the reporter began to give a summary with the highlights of the last two days' hearings:

_An e-e-excelleeeeent morning Britain! Allan Bridges here, and today we are once again broadcasting to wizards and witches all around the nation and the world this important trial that puts to question the need for the Statute of Secrecy and the clandestine functioning of this overlooked, but deeply important fisherman's town in Wales—Tenby. Yesterday the illustrious members of the Wizengamot as well as members of the House of Magical Commons heard several astonishing accounts of life in Tenby from some of its diverse members. These included wizards and witches of pureblood, half-blood and muggleborn status, as well as squibs, and the most astonishing, even muggles! All under the influence of the veritaserum, of course. On to Penelope Clearwater for more details:_

_'Good morning to all listening to our broadcast, g'morning Allan—indeed yesterday was a historical day in Magical Britain. For the first time muggles were called upon to testify in our higher court of justice, and this because in the town of Tenby where all of these people live and come from, a very large and unprecedented number of muggles know about magic and relate to it daily. From the last two days' accounts, we were able to gather that this is such because the majority of these muggles are related to wizards or squibs, either as parents, siblings, children or even spouses! Today's highlight will definitely be the testimony of both Lord Theseus Nott and Ms. Hermione Granger, former Head of Law Enforcement, War hero and lifelong champion for equality and integration, and a Tenby dweller herself._

_Lord Nott is head of the Wizengamot majority and uncle of Mr. Theodore Nott who for months has been building his campaign for the upcoming Minister of Magic elections. Both men's stance on the matter of integration, in general, is no secret to the people of magical Britain—they're fully against it—which also reflects on how Lord Nott, court Barrister is leading proceedings. The Nott family is one of the most ancient and noble wizarding families in England, their particular line originating from Germany and Lord Theseus Nott has served the ministry for over forty years, fifteen of which as a member of the Wizengamot. Lord Theseus and his nephew have always considered themselves 'Moderate Conservatives' in defiance of their family history, which resulted in fatalities on the losing side of both our wars. Back to you, Allan!_

_'Yesterday, Ms. Granger gave the first part of her testimony describing how she went on to live in Tenby and slowly realized the level of integration in her new town, which led her on the path of research. Lord Nott, the case Barrister, lead the inquiries which rapidly became inflamed, forcing the jury to postpone deliberation to this evening. Quite interesting how a trial and public hearing on a small town such as Tenby could spark so much debate nationwide and more than that, showcase the enormous ideological gap in our society, politically and otherwise—this, during in an important election year that marks the end of Minister Shacklebolt's highly progressive government, a decade and a half of wide reforms in the ministry and society, marked by the creation of new laws, our wizarding constitution and the House of Magical Commons which holds the same number of seats as those in the historical Wizengamot, members of which are democratically elected every five years…_

_'Allan, so sorry to interrupt, but it seems that court has been called to assemble and Supreme judge Cordelia Finch will call upon Ms. Granger to take the oath and stand. Let's tune in!"_

Harry and Teddy listened in with bated breaths, forgetting all about birthdays and their plans to go hiking that morning. Teddy's hair turned a deep gray of concentration mixed with anxiety. His aunt Hermione's speeches were a thing of legend, her reputation as not only one of the most brilliant witches alive but also as the country's greatest lawmaker preceded her, and the fact that she hadn't been in court for four long years meant that hearing her in this trial could be a once in a lifetime moment for him and many others.

"Today, the 31st of July of 2014 marks the last day of this public hearing and trial, deliberation proceedings of which will be held from noon onwards. Today I will ask Ms. Hermione Jean Granger to take the witness's stand and raise her right hand with the wand to take the wizarding's oath. Miss Granger, if you will, please…" Cordelia Finch was an elegant gray-haired witch of muggleborn origins who wore Chanel tailleurs and who had worked closely with Hermione during her time as Head of Law Enforcement. Ms. Finch was herself an Oxford University graduate and specialist in Human Rights and Law, the know-how of which she had used to help improve the laws of her country during Shacklebolt's government, but that in no way made her fully progressive. Cordelia was an amateur history buff and had deep respect for the hierarchy and traditions of magical England, which put her precisely in the so-called gray area between the conservatives comprised of mainly purebloods who during the war persecuted and criminalized her 'kind' and the progressives who made it possible for her to implant her vision of a less segregated and more democratic wizarding society.

Hermione had no way to guess which plight Cordelia Finch was leading more towards, she knew that in recent years the woman had grown lukewarm to Kingsley's administration and had grown closer to the pureblood society circles upon the marriage of her son Justin Finch-Fletchley with Pansy Parkinson, but she also knew the woman's sensibility to the cause of Muggle-borns and squibs, which came from her own background—subjects which they had discussed and debated about countless times in the past. Obviously, a judge was expected to follow and abide by the law, but there was no denying that even those could be of subjective interpretation and that personal opinion and beliefs also weighed in.

"I, Hermione Jean Granger, swear on my magic that the evidence I shall give shall be the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth." Those who were present in the courtroom could see a bright silver light being cast out of her wand, Hermione's Patronus, a sea otter running three circles around her before it disappeared into thin air. The judge banged her wooden gavel and turned to her:

"Thank you, Ms. Granger—please be seated. I call upon the Lord Barrister Nott to bring forth his inquiries." The tall and sleek man wore the deep plum robes and bishop-like hat of all the wizengamot members, but with a medal around his neck with a ribbon of red and white, to differentiate him from all the rest—Order of Merlin, 1st class. Hermione suppressed her deep urge to groan and roll her eyes—she had one of those herself for being a war hero, didn't mean she paraded it around. Theseus Nott's eyes were dark and small, shining like a pair of beads, his cheekbones high and surprisingly the signs of his sixty-something years were hardly visible despite his graying mustache and the scar above his right eye from wars past.

Despite it being a business Thursday, most Weasley's, no different to their fellow countrymen, were glued to their wireless as they sat around the Burrow's long wooden table listening intently to the trial's broadcasting. Most of the older grandchildren were enjoying a game of Quidditch in their family pitch, while the smaller children ran about the house and yard enjoying their games. Nothing out of the ordinary, nothing to be worried about—just the outcome of this very important trial. Molly passed around teacups, spoons, and saucers while Angelina diligently went around serving the cups, both ladies working as quickly and as quietly as they could manage, all redheads and their spouses were on their toes to hear today's series of ridiculous questions from Nott, while rooting for Hermione and her cause with the same enthusiasm as they would a team England Quidditch match.

"Oh, 'Ermione will teach that old man a lesson!" Fleur Weasley exclaimed as she banged lightly on the table, spilling a tad of her drink, Bill, her husband sitting next to her, placing his large but gentle calloused hands on top of hers, to help settle her nerves down.

As they often did when the subject was the brooding and plotting of children, the preoccupied grandparents, aunts and uncles failed to notice how every time she went up and down the crooked steps of the stairs little Lily would stomp her feet, or how she'd been wearing a deep scowl since sunrise and how the horrible tangled mess of her ginger hair, which she'd refused to let her granny comb two days straight now were a symptom of just how miserable she felt. Lily missed her daddy, it wasn't like him to ever leave the lot of them behind, or at least she didn't think it was. Never mind that he'd sat them down before he left on his trip with Teddy to let them know that he needed a break and some rest, just for a few days. Lily was also mad because Hermione hadn't returned and it had been _a zillion years_ since the baby shower. Lily felt positively angry for being abandoned and no one around her had cared to ask her why. So she crossed her arms over her chest and sat on the foot of the stairs sporting a big angry frown, her dark-red eyebrows furrowed, staring across the wide rooms before her.

Playing outside and not angry at all were James, Albie, Hugo, and Rose—who didn't seem to miss Lily at all.

…

" _Ms. Granger,_ " Lord Nott somewhat greeted her, his deep baritone echoing throughout the courtroom, each syllable of Hermione's surname uttered with mock deference, but Hermione knew Theseus Nott despised her just as she did him. Everything about him screamed arrogance and mockery towards her as if she were a lesser being. But Hermione hadn't fought in a war in vain, she didn't have a hideous scar on her forearm spelling the odious 'mudblood' for nothing—she hadn't served her country's ministry for the best years of her life to be treated like a piece of rubbish, to be humiliated before the entire country and worse, the press. She felt herself becoming warm, her blood figuratively starting to boil—it was personal now. "Yesterday you declared that you began to participate in the so-called _Tenby Magical Association's_ meetings—were you not aware that any group association that attempts to function like a Ministry of Magic, performing a Ministry of Magic's set of duties is illegal? I mean, with all your legal training and years of service…" Hermione scoffed.

"The TMA that you mentioned is an organization indeed, but it doesn't in any way overstep the Ministry's jurisdiction. The TMA was created to organize _local_ wizards, squibs and their family's cultural and social activities, such as the annual Halloween party, on Halloween of course, and to also protect on a local level that which is so important to you and the magical beings of Britain—our Statute of Secrecy. How, you may ask—" She interrupted him as he was about to speak, "training the locals on charms and spells designed to cover any mishaps from the muggles, bouts of accidental magic so common with young children, glamour spells, that sort of thing. Last August we did something quite interesting, we assembled all Muggle-borns and magical children of squibs along with their parents to training—a training to prepare them all for Hogwarts, how and where to purchase the supplies, what subjects the children would learn, if the school needed to be paid for like most boarding schools in England, how they would be able to maintain contact with their children as the castle provides no internet and telephone service…"

"But that violates our Statute of Secrecy…" he replied quickly, a wicked little grin rising on the corners of his thin lips.

"Lord Nott—section number two of the 3rd article of our constitution says, and I quote 'the well-being and responsibilities over all underage magical beings falls upon their _in loco parentis_ ' which in Latin means parents or legal guardians, as you probably are aware, 'who are responsible for providing quality health, safety, home and education for their children.' Your excellency—" Hermione said, smartly turning to face Supreme Judge Finch, "We worked together along with the Ministry Department of Child Services and Affairs on elaborating this entire article, backed by the Declaration of Human Rights and an entire committee working to secure the well-being of all wizarding children and adolescents. Now, how does something that helps individuals exercise their role and duties as parents violate any law, especially the Statute of Secrecy? I am a muggle-born witch, that is no secret to anyone—"

Hermione proudly rolled up her sleeve for all to see the scar on her arm and continued, "at age twelve a peculiar letter arrived in my house via owl and when my mother, who mind you, is _extremely_ muggle read it, she thought it was some ridiculous joke. It was only a week later, following several other identical letters that were quite getting on my parents' nerves, that a certain highly-respected professor and member of Hogwarts staff knocked on the front door introducing herself as Professor McGonagall, with the mission to explain to those dumbfounded muggles that their only child, their seemingly normal, if bookwormish and introverted child was a witch of all things!" Hermione's gaze caught that of the headmistress sitting in the midst of the crowd across the room for her, the witch's hazel eyes twinkling with mirth. "Does that constitute a breach of the Statute of Secrecy then?"

"No, no it does not." The judge replied. "If the parents were not to be informed, the children would never be able to attend Hogwarts School of Wizarding and Witchcraft, and if they did without the parents' approval or knowledge that would be considered a violation and crime in our constitution which includes among other charges the kidnapping of minors even. Please conclude, Ms. Granger." The judge said, with a smug grin as she secretly enjoyed seeing Lord Nott squirm as he wore that hideous expression of irritation of his.

"Thank you, Your Honor," Hermione said, her eyes shining and her cheeks becoming pink from the sheer exhilaration. Lord Nott was as good with his questions as she was at divination, let that be written! "As I was saying, the training of parents and guardians and their charges for Hogwarts is not a violation to our Statute of Secrecy, not when the fact that their children are magical is no longer a secret to begin with. As a mother, and you as an uncle and guardian yourself know that we always want what is best for our children—we want them to grow up to be smart, successful, happy and healthy among other things. Parents must be able to know where their children are being taken, what they will be doing and studying. As a mother, I would not stand to be separated so abruptly from my children and to be kept in the dark. I want to know what this strange world they are suddenly a part of is like. And that is what the training is for, simple as that."

Sitting in the full but also completely quiet courtroom, Hermione had no way of knowing just how many people were cheering as they listened to her through their wirelesses. She couldn't know that the Weasley's were rejoicing loud and boisterously, that muggle-borns across Britain and their parents felt represented by her words and she couldn't see the big lopsided grin on Harry Potter's face as he clapped his hands together and laughed heartily at the image of his brain of Lord Nott's fury over her magnificent response. Dear Merlin, he wanted to see her right now in her beautiful blue legal robes, he was proud.

Lord Theseus Nott coughed to call attention on himself and pacing the elegant pink marble floors with his hands clasped behind his back directed another question at Hermione:

"As an empirical researcher, wasn't it inappropriate of you to take part in the TMA meetings? Wouldn't there be a conflict of interests?"

"As an empirical researcher, my duty was to study how the organization operated, who its members were, its duties and impact on the community of Tenby—to become aware of such things one must become involved, which includes participating in the meetings and attending events. Also, I wasn't just a researcher but a member of the community myself, I own a business in Tenby, I own a house, my children go to primary school there and I pay my taxes, muggle and magical. No conflicts of interest really, after all, it's an organization for wizards and witches and their families and I'm a magical mum with two magical children."

"Lord Nott, you have only one more question to ask. I must remind you that we are discussing a town's _status quo_ not Ms. Granger's personal life." The judge declared before Nott could utter anything else.

"Of course, Your Honor." He muttered reverencing Judge Cordelia Finch with a little bow. "Ms. Granger, is it your desire or goal, if you may, for all of our Magical World to be of the muggles' knowledge? I mean, what of our freedom and safety? Surely you know of the atrocities committed during the middle ages…"

"I do not wish to abolish the Statute of Secrecy, that is not the point to this trial. The matters of integration and equality in our world have always been dear to my heart and were what drove me in my years of public policy and lawmaking, and before that as a defense attorney for several organizations representing the rights of various magical beings. Above all, I believe in balance and I believe in social justice. Let's be honest, Lord Nott—this country for too long has been reigned by a society that despised and worked to outcast all of those who were different—squibs, Muggle-borns, house elves, goblins… the list is long. Never has Britain been more integrated and working so hard to guarantee that all magical beings have rights. Tenby is a tiny town with a minuscule population if compared to all of the United Kingdom and among the number of wizards and witches in our country, the lowest populations. It is not a place or a community that poses any sort of threat to the way everything in our world has ever worked. The difference really lies on the blood status of the wizards and non-magicals who live there. Since you were so keen on knowing the subject of my research, Lord Nott, let me tell you. In the past roughly 40 years our world has been marked by wars, wars of which the losing sides consisted of _illustrious_ members of wizarding Pureblood society and their allies, a very wealthy and influent minority in our society, a minority that as you know worked to repress and alienate all of those considered to be different. I will not list here all of the atrocities committed, because we all have a good memory of it—thank Merlin my children don't, however, and for this reason in times of war members of society of certain statuses were cast out and persecuted, especially muggle-borns such as myself and squibs, with a few very rare exceptions. Well, a lot of those persecuted individuals along with their families built a sort of network to protect and save themselves and many took refuge in places far from home. That is how such a small and nondescript town like Tenby came to have such a high population of muggle-borns, their muggle families and squibs with their families. If they all hid in one place and lived discreetly, they would have a better chance at survival and protecting themselves. The muggles from Tenby who know of our world know of it because they are family—they are parents, siblings, spouses and children of magical people who decided against choosing in which world they wanted to live and belong in, because they are a people who have one foot in the magical world and another in the muggle, and it's a wonderful thing—and something that should never be or have been denied them. I am not here because I think all of our society should function the way Tenby was, but rather to explain why this is how Tenby is and the reason. If a place like Tenby exists it is because this society has a lot it owes us."

Several people in the courtroom erupted in applause and cheers and celebratory horns could be heard from outside in Diagon Alley. Judge Cordelia Finch banged her gavel.

"Is that all you have left to say, Ms. Granger?" Hermione nodded effusively. "Lord Nott?" The man nodded as well. "I call upon all Wizengamot and Parliament members to remain in the courtroom for deliberation and voting, while all others are dismissed. We shall reassemble at 4 o'clock for the verdict." She banged the gavel once more and all of those not members of the wizengamot and parliament began to line up in queues to leave.

Hermione rose from her seat, straightened her robes in nodded towards the judge who nodded back. She went down the five wooden steps of the witness's stand she'd been in and her eyes looked around the room for her allies. She immediately spotted Headmistress McGonagall with her pointed hat, Andromeda Tonks faithfully at her side.

"You were brilliant, my dear, Nott didn't know where to bury his head by the end!" Andromeda complimented with a smile, the plum of her robes suiting her coloring and dark hair. "I feel like you represented my husband today and yesterday—I thank you." She squeezed Hermione's hand gently and walked off in her usual elegant manner before Hermione could give her a proper response.

"Regina is waiting for you in the cloakroom." McGonagall said, linking her arm to that of her pupil and friend. "You didn't touch breakfast this morning so we surmised you'd need a bite to eat, preferably before the verdict is declared…"

"You're right, Minerva, thank you," Hermione replied, genuinely thankful as she felt her stomach rumble and the familiar sensation of her blood sugar lowering after the adrenaline of being on the stand wore off. When she walked inside the cloakroom, with its deep burgundy wallpaper and dark wood paneling and floors she was surprised to find a long eating table set up for her and Regina along with Louisa and Susan—who should really be at the bookshop instead—as well as Luna, Ron, Kingsley Shacklebolt and both her parents.

She was speechless and astonished as her mother wrapped her arms around her placing a kiss on her cheek.

"These came in for you, from all over the country!" Helena Granger's voice was full of pride as her chocolate eyes glistened with the threat of tears and she handed her daughter several envelopes and pieces of parchment with messages of support.

Hermione took the small pile in her hands and sat on a chair while her father poured her some fresh juice. As she broke the familiar ochre seal with the crest of the House Elf Society it was as though she was going back in time through a time-turner, everything blurring around her and just the heavy beating of her chest—a few warm teardrops sliding down her cheeks. As Hermione inhaled deeply, she could feel the scent of the Gryffindor common room as she remembered it, a mixture of polished wood, cinnamon, stinky teenage feet and of the chocolate frogs they were all so fond of eating. She was that little girl again, with big wild bushy hair and front teeth too large, dressed in her school robes with pride, holding her S.P.E.W sign with all conviction.

"What does it say?" Ron asked curiously as he devoured a large piece of pumpkin pie. Hermione smiled and shook her head, realizing that some things never changed—like Ron or her ideals.

"Their vote is mine—Tenby's. All three house elf representatives in the parliament are voting in favor of Tenby." She unsealed the next envelope from the Union of English Goblins, "another four votes from the Goblins!" and then two more envelopes, "nine more votes from the Muggleborn Pride Union and a vote in our favor from Corinthian, leader of the Centaurs of the Forbidden Forest."

"Wait—centaurs exist?" Was Richard Granger's question which made the entire room explode into fits of laughter, Hermione especially. "Hermione, why have you never introduced us to a _bloody_ centaur?!" Hermione wrapped her father into a hug and he clasped her hand into his, kissing it.

"I will one day, dad." He smiled with a twinkle in his eyes. Hermione took a large bite of her Reuben sandwich, having been this hungry since she couldn't even remember. It was positively the best sandwich she ever ate in a courtroom cloakroom.

"Another two came in Hermione!" Ron exclaimed, "One from Neville and the other from… oh, you open it." He handed them to her. She saw the scarlet Longbottom family crest in one of the neatly folded pieces of parchment, but though she really adored Neville, it was Harry's words she wanted to read the most, in fact, his words, his presence, his reassurance—it was all she wanted. His letter had a wild daisy attached, glued beneath the green seal that belonged to Teddy, but the sloppy cursive handwriting was all Harry—she could recognize it anywhere.

_How could the most brilliant and amazing witch in all of Britain possibly love me too? The mind boggles. -H_

…

Molly Weasley was busy in the kitchen preparing lunch for a house unexpectedly so full of mouths to feed. Angelina and Audrey, Percy's wife, were kind enough to offer a hand while George, Bill, and Fleur joined the older children outside playing Quidditch. They were all rather restless for the trial's verdict, but in her heart, Molly knew Hermione and her lot were winners—she was good, light and love and to Molly Weasley, these were all that triumphed in the end. The wireless was still blasting in the living room, in case any news came in. The commentators were reviewing each of Hermione's answers, her voice echoing around the house as they played the excerpts. Soon they were interviewing wizards and witches on the streets, opinions in favor or against.

At precisely 2 o'clock, in the garden, the younger children gathered together under a tree. Albus had finally convinced his little sister to come outside and play, despite her foul mood.

"Let's play hide and seek, then!" Rose suggested after her idea of playing 'statue' or 'Simon says' were rejected.

"Okay, then—we're good at hiding…" James said, turning to his little sister and nudging her gently in an attempt to cheer her up. "We could hide in pairs, I'll go with Lily!"

"I'll go with Hugo!" Albus cleverly called out, grabbing his little cousin's hand with a mischievous grin as Hugh jumped with excitement. "That means you're it, Rosie!" He exclaimed to which the little girl huffed and rolled her eyes, turning her back to them and beginning to count facing the tree's trunk. "… four, five…"

James and Lily ran as fast as they could with their hands clasped together. They found a brilliant hiding place in the dark and dusty cupboard beneath the stairs. The stood quietly with bated breaths as they anxiously expected Rose to approach at any minute. A while later they heard Hugo's high-pitched screaming as Rose successfully found him and Albus still in the backyard and the three of them appeared to begin looking together for James and Lily.

James giggled lightly as he could hear the sounds of the other kids looking for them behind the sofa, doors and inside cabinets—Albus, the little traitor, telling Rose they weren't under the table.

"If they come for us, I'll distract Rose and you make a dash for it, Lil', you reach the tree and save us so Rose'll have to be 'it' again."

"Okay." Was Lily's single response as she squeezed her brother's hand.

"I'll go first and you stay behind, I'll tell them you hid some other place."

"Okay…" She whispered, happy to conspire with her older brother.

"Finally, the door to the cupboard came halfway open, blocking Lily from view as she was behind it, but Rose having found James tapped his shoulder and ran off shouting, 'I found him, I found him!', James running after her expecting his sister to follow his instructions.

Lily was about to, she really was, but as soon as she stepped into the living room she heard her mummy's voice from the wireless, nice and clear. Lily didn't want to play hide and seek right now, even if it meant winning along with her brother. Lily wanted her mum. She tiptoed towards the fireplace, wise enough to look around and see that her grandmother and aunts were too busy and distracted in the kitchen to see. She grabbed her two hands full of the bright green floo powder in the old flower pot in the mantelpiece and threw it into the hearth.

"I want to go to Hermione's hous—" she uttered, one foot in already when James spotted her, his green-eyes just like their father's going wide as he ran towards her faster than he'd ever run anywhere. He grabbed his sister's arm but was too fast from keeping from tumbling into the fireplace and in a split second they had both disappeared within the flames of green.


	13. Chapter 13

 

* * *

"So, how are you feeling?" Minerva McGonagall asked looking at her with both sympathy and curiosity from behind her spectacles, as the spoke discretely in a corner of the cloak room. An hour had passed since court was dismissed for the deliberation and with each minute Hermione's anxiety grew. Despite the many messages of support received she was still unsure of the outcome and because of it she'd spent a great deal of time pacing the dark marble-tiled floors, swerving from Ron and her mother who were constantly offering her food. Though she had delighted in the sandwich and a warm cup of coffee, she felt the caffeine only made matters worse and the sandwich didn't sit too well, what with her nerves.

"How do I look like I'm feeling, Minerva?" She whisper-yelled with wide brown eyes, hands dramatically waving above, which elicited a chuckle from the older witch.

"You're looking like your eighteen-year-old self, stressing over your N.E. ," she had a teasing smile playing at her lips as she eyed her former student, "You know you've done brilliant and that you'll pass with highest praises, but you stress nevertheless because of your senseless lack of confidence…" Hermione sighed deeply and ran her nervous fingers through her curls.

"You think so?" Minerva nodded.

"I know so, Ms. Granger…" the headmistress looked around the room and saw the dark and imposing form of minister Shacklebolt, nodding in her direction, a question in his deep brown eyes. Minerva rolled her eyes in response and turned once again towards Hermione standing across from her. "I know it isn't the most appropriate of times, but the minister insists I speak with you on the possibility of you launching your candidacy for office as Nott's opponent. There is strong popular opinion in your favor…" Hermione froze for a long minute, taking a while to register those words.

It had once been her greatest dream and goal in life to become Minister of Magic and change her country for the better—but now she wasn't so sure. Being at court again was thrilling, having a case and defending it again equally amazing, but to be minister? So much had changed in her the past years and especially the last month and a half. There were other things she longed and starved for more and she was perfectly happy living in Tenby and managing her bookshop. She was happy being a mum like she never thought she would be and to return to London—because it was what the role implied—she didn't know if she was ready or if this was still a dream of hers. Her only ambitions in the moment revolved around protecting her home and to be with Harry and their kids and not for a second had she imagined a proposal like this would come about.

Her brown eyes, drowning in confusion gazed upon Minerva's and for a rare moment in her life, Hermione Jean Granger was essentially speechless.

"Think about, it." Minerva suggested, ending the conversation once Hermione simply nodded, dumbfounded.

…

Albus was becoming increasingly miffed with just how long they were taking to find Lily—as though a simple five-year-old girl could hide so well! He huffed in annoyance as Rose arrived breathless and crimson-cheeked followed by Hugo, she'd looked everywhere in the yard for the younger redhead while he searched by the quidditch pitch and his grandfather's shed.

"Do you think James found her? I haven't seen him since he went inside…" She asked, her golden-red curls escaping her ponytail, stray curls sticking to her skin from the sweat.

"I thought he was going to play that trick of his on us, but I don't understand what's taking him so long…" Albus frowned deeply and crossed his arms over his chest. "Did you look at the orchard?"

"Yes, _we_ did." Rose confirmed, motioning towards her little brother who had helped.

"Let's look inside!" Hugo suggested, "Maybe they're in the kitchen, granny said she was baking a cake." He tugged his older sister by the hand and she shared a look with Albus—the sort of look she would usually send him when something was certainly not right. Rosie was Al's best friend and they knew absolutely everything about each other. To Albus, if the brilliant Rose was worried than he absolutely should be too. Albie followed his cousins inside and while Hugo headed for the kitchen, Rose checked the dining room and the cupboard where she'd found James earlier, with no success. Albus entered the living area and looked behind the sofas, shelves and Molly's large quilt chest. He checked inside the coat closet by the formal front door and no sign of his sister or his brother. He was beginning to feel desperate—and angry. As he passed in front of the large stone and brick fireplace, he saw some green floo powder spilt on the floor and its pot oddly on the very edge of the mantelpiece, a centimeter close to falling—as if someone very short had tried to reach for it. Immediately he pictured his reckless younger sister.

A deep feeling of dread overcame eight-year-old Albus, his emerald eyes widening in horror. He was certain that Lily and James' disappearance had something to do with the powder, not when granny's house was always so immaculately clean despite its shabby furniture.

"ROSE!" He yelled frantically and seconds later his alarmed cousin came running in, with Hugo at her heal.

"Albie, what is it?" Albus couldn't muster the words as he looked at her, his skin pale from worry, his eyes as wide as saucers. All he could do was point towards the fireplace. Rose at first thought him crazy, but when her brown eyes caught sight of the evidence as well, she gasped. "We've got to tell granny!"

It was Hugo who made a dash for the kitchen, before the two others could make a move. Molly Weasley was bent over pulling a large cake from out of the heated oven when Hugo tugged forcefully on her skirt. The little boy, not being much of a talker and not at all having in him the nature to yell, much like his granddad Arthur, shouted frantically:

"GRANNY! James and Lily are GONE!" Startled by her grandson's outburst and then feeling the cool sense of dread overcome her very being as she registered his words, the Weasley matriarch dropped the hot chocolate cake on the ground, cake-pan crashing loudly onto the ceramic floor, everything _ruined_.

…

Almost two hours had passed since Judge Finch and the members of both the Wizengamot and Magical House of Commons stayed in court to deliberate. Hermione had eaten away both her hunger and a great deal of her nerves, but she couldn't deny that Harry's little note moved her. Her entire being felt lighter and tingly—just thinking that they were both so very close to becoming something more… It was exhilarating, and she couldn't wait to see him again.

When Kingsley Shacklebolt entered the cloak room followed by Regina Butterfield, who he'd been talking with for quite some time, the first thing he noticed on his former colleague's face was the deep rose-color on her cheeks as she stared out of the window at the busy streets of London, arms crossed over her chest. Now, Kingsley was a well-lived man and having worked for over a decade with Hermione Granger it was obvious to him that she was glowing and glowing in the way that only a woman in love could do. He suppressed a smile and decided not to breech the subject for now, in front of everybody else, there was after all, business and politics to be discussed.

"Hermione—" He said, his deep voice shaking her from her thoughts. The witch turned slightly toward him, a small smile playing on the corners of her lips, eyes twinkling.

"Yes?" She had an inkling as to where this conversation might lead, McGonagall had given her a bit of a heads-up earlier.

"Have you read the papers this morning, or listened to the wireless and all the people manifesting their support and admiration of you?"

"Not _all_ the people, Minister." Kingsley waved his hand nonchalantly and Hermione humorously rolled her eyes.

"Many of them though, and you know it. I have a proposition for you…" She found herself frowning at the sound of his words and catching her breath. "I know it's been years and that you've moved and gone on to work with different things, but I still have the memory of a bright and idealistic young witch imprinted in my brain, one who desired nothing more than to change the world for the better. An absolutely brilliant witch who dreamed of one day becoming the United Kingdom's Minister of Magic and doing a hell of a lot better job than I or anyone else ever did." His dark eyes bore into hers, his gaze so intense she couldn't bring herself to turn away. Hermione's frown deepened and she sighed heavily, biting her bottom lip.

Minerva McGonagall was well aware of the sort of conversation her favorite pupil and the Minister were having across the room. She politely excused herself from Regina and the Grangers and walked in Hermione and Kingsley's direction.

Hermione felt a cool hand snake around her arm affectionately, something she still hadn't grown used to, but accepted the supportive touch thankfully. Her brown eyes met with Minerva's and suddenly she felt calmer and less cornered into a wall… Not that it was Kingsley's intention to impose on her, it wasn't. It was just this talk of her returning to London, leaving her life in Tenby and throwing herself into the ministry again that was terribly overwhelming. Returning to London, leaving her home would come with the job.

Beyond that, however, Kingsley Shacklebolt was right. Being Minister of Magic had once been her greatest dream, but things changed, her life had changed, and now, just as she had confided in Minerva days ago, Hermione wasn't so sure being Minister was her life's desire anymore. She found herself having a much greater longing for other things—spending time with her family, traveling the world, maybe even write a book or teach. Hermione simply did not know if she still had it in her to be minister, and it killed her, how could it not, she was Hermione Granger after all… Not knowing was torture.

Before she or Kingsley could say anything else, a tall wizard dressed in thick black robes entered the room and announced that it was time for the verdict and for everyone to move back into the court room. Butterflies overcame Hermione's stomach and Minerva felt the strong pulse of her beating heart against her hand.

"It'll be fine," the headmistress reassured her, hazel eyes with a solemn expression from behind her spectacles. Hermione launched herself into her old professor's arms, something that slightly surprised the older witch, regardless she hugged Hermione back and patted her on the head in a matronly manner.

"Break a leg, my love!" Helena Granger exclaimed, hopping up from her seat and placing a kiss on her daughter's cheek. "We'll go out for your favorite ice cream after this…" She winked, wearing a smile. Hermione blushed as it was somewhat a tradition of hers and her parents, whenever she did something considered special Helena and Laurence Granger would take her for a treat at _Nightingale's Creams_ in Soho, a place with ice creams delicious enough to rival Fortescue's. Despite appreciating it, her mother's comment made her feel a tiny bit like a little girl again, and it wasn't the sort of image she wanted to give all of the authorities surrounding her. Noticing her daughter's blush and eyes widen, appalled, Helena chuckled and rolled her eyes. No mother could be prouder than she was.

"Course we will, Mum—thank you."

Hermione followed the wizard back into the courtroom with Minerva and Kingsley right behind her, needing desperately to calm down again. Her hands were cold and sweaty, to the point of shaking. When they stopped in front of the huge wooden doors she paused, eyes boring right into its intricate carvings. She gently pressed her hand to her stomach and let out a long breath, for a second closing her eyes. _Everything will be fine—you've never lost a case._ It was Harry's voice from long ago that she heard, from a trial judging on the death of a House Elf by the hand of his master, autumn of 2009 was it? With his voice echoing in her mind she felt her heart settle into a slower rhythm and she let out a long breath she'd been holding. She wiped her sweaty hands on her robes and raised her chin defiantly. A split second later, the doors automatically opened and Hermione's eyes once again took in the magnificent courtroom, not a trace of uncertainty could be seen on her face, on the contrary, as she made her way to her designated seat in the front row, next to Regina. The curly-haired witch was the picture of grace and confidence and all eyes and cameras were on her—lights flashing, a million whispers and murmurs erupting, filling the room with a buzzing noise. Just a few minutes later Judge Cordelia Finch made her entrance and solemnly banged the gavel three times.

"The members of the most noble Wizengamot and House of Magical Commons have deliberated on the subject of Tenby, Wales. I call on Lady Andromeda Tonks on behalf of House Black to read the verdict."

"Thank you, your Honor—the Wizengamot and House of Magical Commons declare the Tenby Magical Association innocent of the crime of disobedience of the Statute of Secrecy…" Cheers, shouts and the roar of applause could be heard from the streets even from inside the courtroom and a few wizards even whistled in approval from the inside, cheering, only a minimal amount of wizard-kind booing. Andromeda Tonks cleared her throat dramatically to draw attention back to her pronouncement and gradually the manifestations inside quieted down. Hermione felt warm all over and her heart beat so rapidly in her chest she could barely hear anything else. " _Furthermore_ , no sanctions will be made to prohibit the people or _status quo_ of Tenby, but we require a formal report with propositions on ways to more efficiently protect and obey the Statute of Secrecy in six months' time. This report will be read by the members of this parliament and will either be approved or disapproved. If not approved, a second report will have to be issued with appropriate changes in three months' time. If still not approved by the parliament, the Ministry of Magic and this noble court will compile its own measures and policy for the town." Andromeda barely finished reading and once again the crowds were wild. Journalist commented live and from within the very courtroom directly to the wireless broadcasting, others scribbled impossibly fast in their rolls of parchment, eager to make the next day's headlines.

Judge Finch had to bang the gravel a countless number of times in the period of nearly ten minutes, before everyone quieted down again. Hermione held in her tears of business accomplished, joy and relief, while a smiling Regina squealed and wrapped her in a tight hug.

"I now call upon Mrs. Regina Butterfield, president and chairwoman of Tenby Magical Association to declare her agreement before this court and jury and take an oath."

From then on it was all rather a blur to Hermione—she couldn't wait to eat that ice cream.

…

It was close to getting dark when the large group of Weasleys and their kin gathered around the Burrow's table, all with worried and pained expressions on their faces. Since the moment little Hugo informed his granny of Lily and James' disappearance they had been searching. Uncle Percy and his wife Audrey were causing havoc at the Ministry, having the Department of Transportation try to find where the two children went off to; Molly, Arthur, Fleur and Bill along with their teenage daughters searched all over the Burrow and its grounds for any sign of them, Rose, Hugo and Albus helping along. George and Angelina turned the small village of Ottery St. Catchpole upside down as they searched for their nephews and Ron and Luna who had just left the Tenby trial apparated directly to Harry's house at Godric's Hollow to look for the children, while owl after owl was sent out to family members and friends notifying them of Lily and James' disappearance and if anyone had news of their whereabouts.

Harry and Teddy both arrived at the Burrow as fast as they'd been able to riding on their broomsticks, but the heavy downpour and lightning they'd been caught under along the way slowed their journey. Harry was in disbelief. He was worried sick with his son and daughter, salty tears mixing with raindrops as he flew like a madman—crossing the country in order to find them. He felt like a failure as a father—he'd left his children and now they were nowhere to be found. His heart was heavy as he caught sight of the Weasley family home in the distance. He maneuvered and landed by the backdoor running despite his sore legs and barging inside the house, drenched head to toe from the rain, Teddy coming in seconds behind him.

Fleur held a crying Molly Weasley in her arms, softly coaxing her to sip some tea, to no avail. The now elderly woman, usually so brave and haughty, was now dissolving into tears and sniffles. She hadn't paid attention on them, it was all her fault. She'd lost Fred and then Ginevra and now she was responsible for the loss of her grandchildren as well.

Albus came running down like a bullet, throwing himself into his father's arms, nearly knocking him down once he saw him, his green eyes full of worry and not caring if his father was so wet and cold. Harry pulled Albus up into his arms, hugging the eight-year-old boy tightly, planting a kiss on his silky raven hair.

"No sign of them yet, daddy—they left through the floo." The boy told him, voice laced with worry.

"We'll find them, Al—don't you worry." The boy nodded and Harry put him down.

"It's Lily's fault, I'm sure of it—" The boy informed his father, knitting his thick dark eyebrows together, angrily. "She had a terrible mood all day long…"

Upon hearing the sound of Harry's voice Molly jumped off her sofa, trying to control her sobs, blue eyes puffy and red from crying so long and hard.

"Harry—my clock seems to be broken, Harry—it keeps saying Lily and James are at home, but they are not at Godric's nor here! We have searched everywhere there was to search… I—I'm _so_ sorry!" Her voice broke again as her shaky fingers pointed towards the Weasley family clock, filled with clock handles, one for each child, grandchild and in-law.

Harry had never known for the thing to fail and he examined it carefully finding that Lily and James' handles were indeed at 'home', whereas Albus, Rose and Hugo's for instance, and even his own, pointed to 'Burrow'.

"Ron and Luna are at Godric's searching for the children and waiting to see if they'll show up." Arthur announced, holding up an owl that just arrived. Only a handful of people were accepted within the wards of Harry's home and his two friends were among them.

Harry didn't know what to think or do. He was shivering from the cold and desperately needed a change. Where could those two have disappeared off to? He sighed heavily, massaging his temple for a second.

"Ted, keep an eye out for them for me, will you?" He asked, pointing to Albus and Hugo who were sitting by the window seat, downcast and worried. Teddy had just come out of the washroom having changed into a clean and dry set of clothes.

"Of course, uncle Harry—you don't even need to ask." Harry patted the blue haired boy's shoulder and sighed. He climbed up the rickety wooden stairs and entered the bedroom that once had been Ginny's, but now held several beds for him and his children when they came over. The room still smelled faintly of her jasmine perfume, but this time, the scent of her was no consolation.

Harry was surprised to see Rose sitting by the desk, looking out the window with her thoughts far away. It was odd to see her in here, not when usually she and Hugo were accommodated in Ron's old room.

"What're you doing up here all alone, Petal?" He asked her and she sighed, turning to look at him with those big no-nonsense brown eyes, the spitting image of her mother.

"The clock keeps saying they are home—but they're not are they?" She asked. Harry nodded, wearing a deep frown. "It doesn't make sense for them not to be at Godric's Hollow when that's where they live. Don't people usually call the place they live their home?"

Harry nodded as he followed her line of thought, though he felt he really needed that change of clothes. He was shivering, his teeth chattering, but Rose seemed not to catch the hint.

"Unless…" She trailed off and he furrowed his eyebrows.

"Unless what?"

"Unless they don't feel Godric's their home anymore..." She took a piece of paper from the desk and handed it to Harry. The drawing was messy and full of the scribbles typical of Lily's hand, but even so he could easily recognize the people portrayed in it and the building standing above them in the color blue. There was a figure that looked like him, black hair and green eyes and round glasses, two identical figures but smaller in size to his left, likely Albus and James. On the other side of him was a figure with big brown curly-cues for hair and dark eyes and next to her a girl with big dark red hair, also curly and a boy and girl with orange hair, the girl wearing pigtails and a pink party dress—he knew her to be Lily and the woman next to him, she could only be Hermione. They were all holding hands in the drawing, though those were little more than little sticks bunched together. He looked at the blue building, full of windows and boasting a bright red door.

Harry's heart beat rapidly as he took all of this in—James and Lily were _home._

"Rose Weasley—you are brilliant, girl!" He exclaimed, his eyes bright with hope after a long few minutes as he stood there taking it all in. Rosie smiled triumphantly and left the room without a word, so that he could change.

As Harry rubbed himself dry with a clean towel once he managed to peel off his clothes, he replayed a mantra in his head, the closest thing he could manage to a prayer:

_Let them be home._

_Let them be home._

_Let them be home._

…

Hermione Granger was exhausted and her feet now had blisters from walking around in high heels all day. She should have known better, it had been years since she'd last worn them during her great-aunt Cressida's funeral and even on that day it had been sheer torture. So, she decided to walk home carrying them in her hands, basking in the gentle breeze and the salty scent of ocean that it carried. Hermione took her sweet and patient time, having flooed along with her parents to their flat above the bookshop earlier and briefly checked in with Louisa and Susan who were sipping celebratory wine.

Hermione had won the case and could hardly believe it—perhaps with some pinching… She smiled to herself and looked up toward the sky with its sunset hues—pinks, lilacs and oranges swirling together beautifully. With each step she took there was a tiny bit of pleasure, her bare feet touching the warm stone of the street pavement. She freed her hair from the tight formal twist she'd worn exclusively the past few days and it was glorious. The wind made work out of blowing her bushy golden-brown curls and Hermione was suddenly hit with the realization that now she knew what Luna Lovegood felt—always barefoot, hair always free, wandering about, she smiled at the thought as she rounded the corner of what was Oceanview street and passing three colorful houses, stopped in front of the three-story blue one with a bright red door, white lace curtains adorning the windows from inside. A wave of warmth overcame her and she knew it was because her magic recognized this as her home.

When Hermione unlocked her door and entered it was already six in the evening. She could hear the grandfather clock chime as she walked inside. She hung her purse in the wooden hanger by the door and dropped her shoes there, she would deal with them later.

She began to unbutton her sapphire-colored legal robes as she made her way to the kitchen, slipping out of the thick heavy fabric, dressed only in a cream silk underdress that went down to her knees. She unfastened her tight bra and pulled them off with ease, hanging it along with the robe over the back of the chair.

And then her eyes landed on two glasses sitting by the sink, stained with milk, one of them half-empty. Hermione only ever had milk with her tea or coffee and it couldn't possibly be Rose or Hugo's because they'd spent the last few days between Ron's house and the Burrow. Hermione reached for her wand in the robe's pocket and held it at her side, alert. Looking around, she found the cookie jar empty, the yogurt and grapes that had been in her refrigerator just that morning all gone. There were only crumbs in her bread basket, when she was positive two small loaves were left there that morning.

She tiptoed back into the living room, the house cast in darkness aside from the yellow glow of the table lamp. Perdita the owl was perched elegantly on her spot on the shelf above Hermione's neat desk, but as soon as the messenger bird caught sight of her mistress, flew across the living room, circling the sofa desperately. Hermione came closer and peeked at the sofa and gasped when she saw the image of Lily and James Potter huddled together under a throw blanket, fast asleep. On the coffee table were the bowl of grapes, now empty except for the seeds, yogurt cups and half-eaten sandwiches abandoned on top of a plate.

"Dear Merlin, what have you both done?" She whispered with worry in her voice, circling the sofa to stand directly in front of them. She went on her knees and ran her fingers through Jamie's hair until he stirred and she softly called his name to wake him. "James… James, wake up please."

The boy's emerald-eyes fluttered open, drowsy from sleep—but once the dark and blurry image that was Hermione became clearer, he more than quickly launched himself in her direction, wrapping his arms around her neck, burying his face in her curls. She knew he was crying when his chest pressed against hers began vibrating and warm tears began to land on her skin.

Hermione held him and rubbed soothing circles on his back until he stopped crying and sniffled, letting himself be held.

"I'm never going on the floo again!" He told her and Hermione gently pushed James away so she could look at him, the shock and disbelief in her expression not going unnoticed by the ten-year-old.

"James Sirius—what on Merlin's name are you going on about the floo? Did you illegally ride in it with your sister?" Hermione's voice was now stern and cross. He nodded, though sheepishly. Hermione's eyes widened and her lips became a straight line as usually happened when she was angry and upset. "Where are Albus and your father?"

"I didn't mean to, I swear…" Tears filled his green eyes, he didn't want her to be mad at him. "Al's at the Burrow and I think dad is still at the forest with Teddy."

Hermione was examining him all over, poking and prodding almost as James were a mannequin, her instinctual 'survival mode' leftover from the war making itself show. She checked his arms, hands, head, legs, almost every part of his body for any sign of splinching or injury, but there were none. She allowed him to sit back on the edge of the sofa, his fingers laced together over his lap.

"Is Lily all right?" James nodded. She let out a sigh of relief.

"She was the one who threw the powder in, I jumped after her when I saw—dad told me to be in charge while he was gone, and I didn't have time to call granny for help before we were on our way!"

"This was Lily's doing then?" James nodded sheepishly.

"She wanted to see you." Hermione ran her nervous fingers through her hair and covered her face with both hands for a moment, taking it all in. She could only imagine the sheer panic all of the Weasley's and Harry were in, looking for them. Before she knew it, a sob escaped her lips and tears were falling freely down her cheeks. She felt this was her own fault in a way, she'd been so busy with the trial that she'd neglected the little girl, especially when their last encounter at Ron and Luna's baby shower had been so dramatic. Lily was just a brash five-year-old girl who wanted her mummy…

They were all extremely lucky that the children were safe—they could have died or been lost forever and Hermione would never forgive herself for it.

"I'm sorry…" James said and Hermione nodded, wiping her tears away. Running her fingers gently between his dark bangs, soothing him.

"You must have been so scared, I'm just happy you're both home now…" She pulled him into her arms again for a tight bear hug. "I love you so much, Jamie—you're the best older brother, you know that? Lily and Albus are so lucky!" Hermione felt him nod against her neck and between tears she managed a chuckle. A little while later she remarked: "Merlin you smell like a monkey James, go take a shower!" She ordered and he unwrapped himself from her embrace, eyes red and puffy, but wearing a tired a smile.

"Towels in your wardrobe?" Hermione nodded.

"And soap bars in the cupboard in my bathroom!" She called as he made his way upstairs, eager to obey her or there could be hell to pay later.

" _I know!_ " He yelled back from up the stairs.

"He knows…" Hermione whispered to herself, crossing her arms over her chest, eyes landing on Lily only to notice the girl's eyes staring straight back at her, wide awake. "I hope you know you're in trouble, Lily Luna." The girl frowned and nodded, casting her eyes down in shame. "Something very bad could have happened to you and James—what you did was very dangerous and I expect you to never do it again."

"I won't," the little girl whispered, and Hermione sighed deeply, caressing her red curls and placing loving kisses across her forehead. "I missed you, mummy."

"I missed you too, my darling girl."

"Do I need a bath as well?" Hermione made a show of sniffing Lily all over, which caused her to giggle from the tickling, her cheeks turning a bright pink and her green eyes glowing.

"Yes, of course you do! No smelly Potters in this house!" Lily giggled and hopped off the couch, secretly relieved that her plan had worked. "Your brother should be finished, ask him to draw you a bath—I have to tell your granny you're here, she's probably out of her mind with worry." Hermione got up from the floor, her knees slightly sore by now and Lily made her way upstairs loudly calling James' name.

…

She's sitting on the sofa with a glass of white wine, the television broadcasting some silly comedy show she's not even paying attention to as she idly twirls the drink between her fingers. Her entire being is tingling with anticipation because she knows he will be here any minute now, it's been a half-hour since he fire called from the Burrow.

...

It's half-past eight when Harry floos into her living room—their eyes lock immediately and he doesn't even care to brush off some of the soot. Both their hearts are beating wildly in their chests.

Harry is awfully ready for this whirlwind of a day, his birthday of all things, to come to an end. He's exhausted and his muscles are all tense from flying and worrying.

"They're asleep now—upstairs." Her voice is soft and slightly hoarse, tired as well, but just hearing it makes almost all of his cares melt away. She has that crazy ability over him, of being _so_ infuriating but also the only person capable of soothing him just with her presence. It is, perhaps, the scariest thing in the universe to love and want such a person, be so dependent on her, with such intensity... "I gave them a good talking to, so don't you worry." Just like that his eyes sparkle and her heart skips a beat—he smiles that lopsided grin of his that's always driven her utterly stupid. He inches closer to her, she holds in her breath, toes curling into the Turkish rug from anticipation.

"If it's any bit like the talking to you'd give me and Ron…" He lets out a dry laugh, eyes never leaving hers. Harry is so close she can feel his warm minty breath against her cheek. "You were brilliant at the trial." Her eyes flicker with recognition and move from where they were fixated on his lips back to his gaze.

"I'm always brilliant." She remarks wearing a smirk and he can't help but full on laugh at her humor. Indeed, Hermione Granger was always brilliant, but oftentimes she forgot this important fact and usually before a serious event would briefly let her nerves get to her. _Almost_. He still remembers her as a teenager, stressing over exams, and also the many times over the years where he would meet with her in the corridors of the ministry and hold her while she hyperventilated. He could tell from her eyes that she'd been nervous today, but despite that, victorious. He admired Hermione like he admired no other.

"Hmm, yes, which is partly why for me it is so hard to conceive that you could possibly love me, be in love with me, the way I love and am in love with you."

"Oh, so I'm in love with you, now?" He rolls his green eyes. Hermione has a cheeky smile playing at the corner of her lips. Her fingers find their way to the pale blue linen of his shirt, literally and figuratively playing with his buttons.

"'Course, and I'm madly, stupidly, unmistakably in love with you. Even though you're a little batty," he scoffs playfully, "Merlin, who am I kidding, you are a raging control freak and bossy little know-it-all!" She laughs in that loud and unapologetic way of hers, throwing her curls back, both wild and tinged golden from the glow of the lamp, exposing her delicate milky skin. He thinks there's not perhaps one sound in the entire world more beautiful than Hermione's laugh.

"But also brilliant?" Her fingertips are wandering to his overgrown beard.

"Oh-so brilliant, and beautiful…" Harry's hand winds up around her waist and he pulls her possessively against him. " _and sexy as hell…"_ he whispers into her ear, the sensation of his breath and the barely-there grazing of his lips and beard against the sensitive skin of her earlobe causing her to shiver with desire. Her fingers grab a fistful of his shirt, while her other hand supports her, as standing on the tip of her bare feet, she presses her hungry lips onto his.

Hermione feels as though she's on fire when he kisses her back and soon their tongues battle for dominance, desperate, wild and haphazard hands and limbs eager to make up for the lost time. Her entire being pulses, perhaps never having felt so alive.

When they finally part for air - _blasted air!_ \- he rests his forehead on hers, trembling from the intensity of it—the edges of her curls are glowing like fire—he knows she feels the same electricity coursing through her veins and around her body, the fire is her magic, her burning love, and desire for him.

"I love you, Hermione." He whispers, green eyes brighter than she's ever seen them. She bites her bottom lip and nods—she knows and she loves him too.

"Perhaps you might want to see the kids now?" He sighs and nods, her soft hand captures his and he laces their fingers together.

Harry was home, at last.


	14. Chapter 14

Hermione was fixing them a small dinner accompanied with wine in the kitchen, while he finished checking on James and Lily upstairs. It had given Harry so much relief to see his children fast asleep, smelling of bath soap and lavender, snoring lightly after what was probably an emotional rollercoaster of a day. As he fixed James' covers, Harry deeply felt the absence of Albus, as well as Rose and Hugo.

He walked down the stairs and into the kitchen where she was dressed in her girly floral apron, one he had worn many an occasion weeks ago when they were all under this roof. She looked beautiful, her golden curls held back by a dark clip, her back to him as she hummed a tune under her breath.

"It's boring ol' chicken, rice and salad tonight…" She warned him as he took in the mouth-watering lemony aroma.

"Honestly, I am so hungry anything will do—even your cooking." Hermione glared at him and threw her oven mitten at him, which he successfully dodged with a boyish laugh.

"I'd behave if I were you Potter, or you won't be getting anywhere near my bed tonight, and I don't care if it's your birthday!" she turned away to finish dressing the salad and his eyes widened a bit once he processed the meaning of her playful words. Hermione couldn't help but smile to herself as she kept busy. Unbeknownst to Harry, buried deep in the pocket of her robe was his birthday gift and she was waiting for the perfect moment to reveal it.

Harry's green eyes darted back to her figure as he leaned casually against the kitchen table, listening as she went back to humming. She wore her silk under dress that left little of her figure to the imagination, that wasn't covered by the apron. He basked in the vision that were the curves of her hips, her round bottom, perfect, shapely thighs and generous breasts. Hermione Granger was the definition of the word 'womanly' and was the rather oblivious bearer of an effortless beauty and sensuality, a renaissance sort of exquisiteness of wild golden curls and milky skin—straight out of a Michelangelo painting.

Hermione was a woman who unbelievably loved him and had constantly been by his side since about the day they met—a woman who was no longer a dream or a fantasy to be buried in the deepest corners of his mind and heart, but a woman who was all that he ever wished for, even unknowingly for a hell of a long time, but that nevertheless had come true.

 _This was it._ He and Hermione were together now, just like that... They would share a home, a bed, have some glorious sex, fight and do all of the things couples normally did. They would raise their army of children and grow old together. It was crazy to imagine.

"I can feel you staring you know…" She told him, arching an eyebrow as she set the salad bowl on the table, a smile playing at the corner of her lips. She poured herself a glass full of cabernet and took a sip, brown eyes following him with interest.

" _I_ —it's just—it's finally dawning on me what this means now…" he explained, waving his finger to point back and forth between them both. Hermione inhaled deeply and nodded, tasting the wine that had stained her lips.

"I've wanted this for so long, it seems too good to be true." She admitted, after a while. Harry nodded and took a seat across from her on the table, holding her hand and caressing it with his thumb. Hermione pulled the little box from her pocket and held it in her lap before he could see. "It's bizarre actually," she gathered, her brown eyes bright and full of joy as she looked at him.

"What's bizarre?!" They heard a loud boisterous voice coming in. Hermione jumped from her seat, pulling away her hand, the tiny and delicately wrapped gift box falling to the ground, under the table, away from Harry's line of vision.

Harry couldn't help but roll his eyes at the form of his tall redheaded best friend.

"That you still can't catch a hint, Ronald." Hermione snapped at him, voice dripping with annoyance. Harry chuckled—this was just like the old times, and to his surprise, he actually had really missed it. The golden trio was back together…

"Just popped in to see how the little sprogs are—mum wouldn't stop pestering me about it, wanting to be sure they were alive and intact." He said using air quotes.

"Mummy!" They heard Hugo calling as he rushed in, launching himself in his arms.

"Hugo!" She greeted back, hugging and kissing him. She shared a look with Harry from the corner of her eyes and he couldn't help but laugh, the corners of his eyes crinkling in that charming way of his.

"So much for alone time…" he whispered, only for her to hear and respond with a dramatic roll of her eyes, agreeing.

"Hughie, where's Rose?" Hermione asked her little boy, caressing his soft cheek. Before he could respond Ron butted in:

"Oh, you know how she is—arrived home and ran straight for the loo!" Ron cried out with a chuckle, not caring that Hermione and Harry were still dining. "Albus went after James and Lily upstairs, I think." He eyed the small feast set before them on the table and though he wasn't hungry, the glutton fool in him was beckoned. "Say, 'Mione—where d'you keep the plates?"

"In that cupboard over there, daddy!" Hugo pointed and Ron ruffled his ginger curls appreciatively.

"Good boy!" Ron complimented with a smile.

"Oh, for Merlin's sake, you two are incorrigible. I can't even have dinner in peace! Did Molly not teach you manners, Ron?" Hermione groaned dramatically and buried her face in her hands, but really, she was only _slightly_ upset because Ron's arrival meant postponing Harry's birthday gift. Like the oblivious wanker that he was, Harry couldn't stop smiling or laughing. She fought the urge to roll her eyes.

"She did, but I choose not to use them sometimes." He winked at Hugo playfully. Ron filled his plate and began to shovel the food in, making appreciative sounds. "Gotten better at cooking, have we, curly-top?" He complimented in between mouthfuls. Luckily Hermione had prepared more than enough. And then the idiot redhead seemed to remember: "Oh, where are my _so-called_ manners—Happy Birthday, mate! I hope the rest of your 34th will be bloody less eventful than today!" Ron pat Harry on the back enthusiastically.

"Thanks mate, I have an inkling it'll be just wonderful…" He said, emerald-eyes landing on Hermione, who bit her bottom lip so she wouldn't smile while her insides turned to mush like some ridiculous, common teenage girl. Little did she know that her cheeks had turned a bright crimson, a feat that even a little boy like Hugo and a daft Ronald Weasley could notice.

She then felt a gentle grazing, from her ankle all the way up to her calf, then back down again, that made Hermione shiver in both pleasure and surprise. Her eyes met with Harry's and he tried to mask his impish grin with his hand from Ron and Hugo who were eating, winking at her.

" _Later…"_ he mouthed silently, and Hermione cast her dark eyes down to her plate again, immediately feeling the familiar sensation of arousal.

…

A little while later Hugo, Albus and Rose had been successfully tucked in by both Harry and Ron in their rooms upstairs, despite their seemingly boundless energy. Ron said his goodbyes and hugged them both tight.

"Don't screw up like I did, mate." He tells Harry in private before he floos home to Luna who is waiting.

A few moments later as Harry is helping Hermione tidy up the kitchen it's Teddy's turn to floo in, bringing the gifts and cards his godfather had received all through the day and left at the Burrow. To be perfectly honest, it was all a bit of a pretext, Teddy really wanted to witness for himself, this new beginning of sorts that was happening—his godfather had finally gotten to admitting his feelings to aunt Hermione.

Harry was upstairs in the shower when Hermione knocked lightly on the door to the guest room where James and Albus were already asleep and where Teddy was seated by the desk, drawing in his notebook.

She opened the door slowly, first peaking inside and then entered, shutting it gently behind her. She carried a nice warm blanket, towel and brand-new toothbrush and set it on the desk by Teddy, who watched her rather shyly. Ever since he was a little boy he had a small bit of awe for the witch. She was feisty, intelligent and brave and that admiration had only grown with the years until it became a crush. Now, as he looked at her, he realized that his crush for her wasn't romantic in any way, but just an effect of just how amazing she was and how much he wished she had a more active role in his life. As a mentor, maybe or even just as a friend.

"So, on a scale from one to ten—how much did you miss sleeping on an actual bed?" Teddy chuckled, crinkling the corners of his eyes, his hair having turned curly and brown well before she entered—it was something he unconsciously did since he was a boy, as if to justify his desire to spend time with her.

"I think twelve or thirteen!" He admitted, with a smile. "Camping was nice and the forest of Dean, exquisite."

"Yes, it is, even in the winter. It's funny, I never went back there after the war and I remember so many camping and hiking trips there with my parents as a girl during the summers… I suppose I'm afraid those terrible memories will come rushing back to the surface, and even though it's been sixteen years, it's hard you know?" Teddy nodded.

"Did you give uncle Harry his birthday card?" Teddy asked, "I've been holding on to everything that's come through the post and from the Weasley's all day, nothing from you. I don't mean to pry but…" Hermione rolled her eyes.

"But already prying…" She said with a voice laced with humor, playfully tugging at his ear. Teddy blushed, "I have his gift here with me—is it weird that I don't really have the balls to give it to him?"

"Well, for one it's weird that you even used that expression…" He commented cheekily and Hermione stuck her tongue out at him, mockingly. "Why is it weird?"

"Deeply personal gift—more personal than I've ever given anyone, I think. Something I've held on to for a few birthdays now..."

"And then chickened out and given him something completely different?" Hermione nodded. How could a sixteen-year-old be so damn wise? She blamed it on Teddy being a Hufflepuff.

"Of course, he was married then and perhaps it wouldn't be so appropriate, what with Ginny…"

"But for better or worse she isn't here anymore, aunt Minnie…" Teddy told her, using his childhood nickname for her for effect. Hermione's deep brown eyes met with his and nodded.

"What if this whole thing doesn't work out—I mean, it didn't with Ron and for years during and after our marriage our relationship was awful, only now we're beginning to get closer again…"

"Well, even if I had a crystal ball you wouldn't believe me," Teddy remarked. Hermione glared in his direction, eyes sharp. He shrugged. "You're a legend at Hogwarts—your whole 'divination is bollocks!' ordeal is still talked about." Hermione flinched.

"Still true though…" She said, with a smile playing at her lips. "Thank you for the talk, my rainbow Teddy bear." Hermione ruffled his hair and kissed his forehead, he was too late to swerve away from it. Rainbow Teddy bear was what she called him as a baby, up until he was about eight or so, because of how often he changed the color of his hair—it was deeply embarrassing and endearing all at once. Teddy had a bigger control over it now. "I'm glad you're here you know—the family feels incomplete without you." Teddy smiled at this, because though he never doubted his godfather's love and care for him, he had never felt this welcome at the Burrow or at Godric's, not while Ginny was still around. He knew it was nothing personal and that the late redhead was fond of him, but fondness was the furthest it went. He never felt remotely at home at Godric's or in her presence—always as though he was a visitor or intruder. With Hermione it wasn't like this at all.

"Off to bed now…" She ordered, pointing to the large space next to a lightly snoring Albus, who sucked on his thumb greedily.

In this house, with aunt Hermione, his godfather and all the other kids, Teddy didn't feel at all like an intruder—he felt as though he belonged.

Hermione cast the lights off with a swish of her wand and blew him a kiss.

"Goodnight, Ted."

"G'night, aunt Minnie."

…

When she barges into her bedroom, he is standing naked, drying himself with a white towel. Her eyes widen because old habits die hard and she had grown used to having the room all to herself. She blushed profusely and apologized, feeling the mortifying heat of embarrassment on her cheeks.

She muttered an apology under her breath and more than quickly turned around, closing the door behind her, racing down the stairs in just her underdress and robe, feet bare. An overwhelming sensation overtook her as it dawned deep within her, that this was all reality and a very handsome, monument of a man stood in her bedroom just waiting for her to arrive.

Hermione felt her palms becoming cold and sweaty and she recognized the sensation as being her anxiety getting the best out of her. She paced the small floor in front of the stairs before she ran out of the house, letting her crazy instincts, the very irrational part of her brain guide her off.

Despite being summertime, the eleven o'clock night was cool and crisp, the winds of the ocean making her shiver. Still she ran and ran, not knowing exactly the destination until her feet touched sand and she tiredly trudged through it until the bone-freezing temperature of the waves splashed onto her calves, in a way urging her awake.

Hermione was breathless and tired as she took steps back and plopped down onto a dry bit of sand, looking out into the deep midnight color of the ocean, waves crashing—skies heavy with hundreds and hundreds of stars.

She sat there for what felt like hours until she caught sight of the shadow looming from behind her. She knew it was him, by the way he breathed.

To her surprise he handed her a bottle of wine and sat down next to her. She took a large swig. " _Fuck_ , you know me too well." She whispered. He snickered and shook his head.

"Hermione, we're British, we only properly talk feelings when _not_ sober." She smiles at his remark and feels silly all of the sudden, for freaking out and fleeing. It's not the sort of thing one expects from Hermione Granger or that she expects even from herself. It is her normal to face and fight things—or at least it was. She passes the bottle to him and he takes a swig himself. "I love you…" He tells her, looking into his eyes, the stars in the sky reflected on them. How could one man be so _bloody_ perfect?

"I know, and I love you too Harry—more than ever." When she looks at him again her eyes are glistening. "But are you ready? Because I can't—I don't think I have it in me to face another heartbreak, to be honest…" She wipes away a stray tear, looking out into the sea. "I don't want this, whatever it is, to ever end and end badly, you know?" He nodded, quietly. "I couldn't bear to lose you Harry…"

"It scares me shitless too, like nothing else ever did—maybe Voldemort, but that's different. I just—I felt so guilty, because of Ginny and the way she died, how I felt like I was responsible in a way and then how fast my feelings for you grew and changed." Hermione took a large swig of the wine as she listened, passing the bottle on to him. Taking a sip, he continued, "This all really tested by Gryffindor courage—" he chuckled dryly and she snickered, for her it was the same sort of feeling. "I had a bit of time to avoid this subject, this _thing_ between us, but I wasn't able to run away from the truth for too long—and the truth is, Hermione, that I love you and have always loved you and it physically hurts almost. I want to be with you, grow old with you, be driven crazy by your moods and manias—I want to make you happy, I want to raise our children with you, travel the world with you…" He became breathless as he passionately listed, not noticing the sparkle in her eyes, or the smile that she now wore.

"And do you want to make love to me, Potter?" she asked, surprising him by wrapping her arms around his neck. He pulled her onto his lap and attempted to tuck her rebellious curls behind her ears, but it was no use with the wind. Her voice was barely above a whisper, raspy, seductive, sexy and beautiful as hell. He pressed his beard to her cheek and felt how it was still wet from her tears. He planted a warm, kiss in that sensitive spot below her ear that he knew was her weak point. When she lightly shivered, he chuckled to himself and continued to minister the kisses, in between nibbles until his hand began to wander inside her open robe, the ivory silk of her camisole, just a think and barely-there layer separating him from the soft and milky texture of Hermione's skin.

Her hands move his face so that she could look at him and she's biting her bottom lip while her eyes take in the very expression of desire on his face—his desire for her, Hermione.

She kisses him on the lips then, her fingers burying themselves in his overgrown raven locks of hair, his hands parting her thighs so that she straddled him fingers gently sliding up her thighs, moving the hem of her camisole upwards so that he could have access to her delightful skin, hands squeezing thighs and continuing their path until they land on her bottom to squeeze them over the delicate lace of her knickers. He can feel her pressing herself deeper against him, feeling the volume of his own arousal against her inner thigh. Her hands leave his body momentarily and he groans until he sees, emerald eyes full of interest, Hermione shrugging off her robe.

He is mesmerized at the sheer beauty of her—like a moon goddess bathed in the pale moonlight, wind blowing her curls behind her, skin flushed and lips swollen and parted from their kissing. Harry doesn't think he's ever seen anything or anyone so utterly alluring and sensual. His hands leave her delicious, shapely legs and travel up the soft silk of her camisole until they are slowly wandering up her belly, taking hold of each of her breasts, nipples hard against his palms.

He hears a moan escape her lips from the sensation of it and he continues to kneed her there, burying his face at the curve of her neck, placing hot, open-mouth kisses there while her hand reaches for the hem of his shirt and they part only for her to eagerly remove it. He gives her a smile and presses his lips to hers as her fingers explore his body, their desperation and need for one another only growing.

His hands cup her breasts again and this time he doesn't waste time, pulling the straps down until they are revealed to him in their utmost glory—areoles a delicate pink and her pale, feather-soft skin pale from the moonlight's glow. He trails kisses from her neck down until one hand kneads her breast and the other captures her sweet, sensitive nipple between his lips and teeth. She moans again, pressing herself harder against his member, still captured within the confines of his flannel pajama pants.

Finally, he flips her over until she is laying there on the sand, biting her bottom lip with anticipation, in that gorgeous and sexy way that Harry is certain she knows drives him crazy and she pulls him by the neck, down on top of her, their tongues battling for dominance, Hermione hungrily nibbling on his lips in a way that he never imagined could be so _fucking_ fantastic.

Her thighs lock tightly around his waist, the heels of her feet pressing against his arse, ever closer. It's just the flimsy fabric of his trousers separating him from the pulsing heat of her womanhood, the lace of her knickers a silly excuse for cover. Her fingers are tugging at the elastic of his pants in order to slide them down when they feel a strong and artificial yellow light on their faces. Both their eyes widen in horror when they hear a grumbled warning:

"OY! You kids better get a _bloody_ room! The beach is no place for shaggin—" Before the patrol guard can finish his sentence Harry reaches for his shirt beside them and they disappear with a 'pop'.

When Hermione finally gets over the stunned feeling of surprise, dread and then apparating she can't help but laugh heartily. Harry laughs too, his chest vibrating against hers. He doesn't think he's felt this young, this alive in a very long time. He rolls off of her and sits, leaning against the headboard. She sits as well and he watches as she pulls something from inside her bedside table's drawer.

"For your birthday, just ten minutes before the actual day is over... I'm sorry I took so long." She says sheepishly, eyeing her alarm clock.

Harry looks at the tiny box and unties the delicate blue ribbon. Inside laying in a white satin cushion was a golden pocket watch with floral and bird engravings. It was beautiful and as delicate as it was antique.

"Open it..." Hermione urges him, uncaring that her chest was entirely bear to him. "There's a tiny key." He found it and did as she asked. When it opened it had minute and hour dials like any watch or clock and ornate Roman algarisms, but on it's lid it read in neat cursive writing:

_I carry your heart in me (I carry it in my heart)_

Harry immediately recognized the quote as being one from a book of poetry he gifted her many a birthdays ago, by ee cummings. Hermione was always more factual and more prose when it came to her literature, so when confronted for the first time with actual poetry verses and so deeply from the heart, she fell in love. He remembers her telling him as much, at least. He looks closer at the pocket watch and notices that the time handles are not moving.

"This is not your everyday watch is it?" Hermione shakes her head.

"It's a rare artifact, I found it about seven years ago, it works a bit like a pensieve, somewhere you can store your memories, not just one but several. This is one of just five ever created and along these years I've been storing my own memories in it, my memories of you."

"Oh." Hermione shrugs and smiles at just how adorable he looks.

"It's why I'm only giving it to you now, anytime before would have been improper..." He understands what she means and nods. She takes it from his hand and delicately sets it back in the drawer. "You can look at my old memories later, I want to make a new one..." He chuckles at just how bossy and amazing she is and pulls her into his arms.

" _Best birthday ever!_ " He whisper-yells and she rolls her eyes.

He softly caresses her arm, and Hermione kisses him tenderly. His ingertips softly caress her hair, her brown eyes shining as she looks into his eyes. She mutters an accio wand under her lips and waves her bedroom door shut and locked—Harry chuckles.

"No more interruptions tonight…" She tells him and he nods his agreement. To his surprise it's her turn to flip them over and straddle his waist again, finally completely removing her under dress. There is mischief in her eyes, as well as arousal and he vows to make her feel all the pleasure in the world.

_Now is only the start._


	15. The Happy Gryff

**_This is the end, of a beautiful friendship_ **

**_It ended a moment ago._ **   
**_This is the end of a beautiful friendship,_ **   
**_I know,_ **   
**_For your eyes told me so._ **

**_We were always_ **   
**_Like sister and brother,_ **   
**_Until tonight,_ **   
**_When we looked at each other._ **

**_That was the end of a beautiful friendship_ **   
**_And just the beginning of love._ **

_"A Beautiful Friendship" sung by Susannah McCorkle_

* * *

_Friday, August 1_ _st_ _2014_

He awoke to the scent of vanilla and salt, something silk-soft and warm tickling his nose. He inhaled, taking in the deliciousness that was her smell, his vision blurry from the absence of his spectacles, but still he could see the bedroom awash with golden light. His chest was pressed against her bare back, his arm holding her gently against him.

"Wake up, sleepy witch…" He whispers, pressing a sweet kiss on her bare shoulder and tickling her delicate skin with his beard.

"Sod off, Harry—the one morning I get to sleep in late…" She mumbles, without daring to open her eyes, tightening her hold on the precious pillow. He can't help but laugh.

Laugh because of his sheer luck, laugh because with her it was so easy to just _be_. He laughed because she is the cutest in the morning, her curls a wild, messy bush that no explorer but him could possibly dare dive into. Harry laughed for the sake of laughing and feeling legitimately happy—blissful even.

"But it's seven, love." He reminds her, imagining that the bit of information would be enough to have her jump out of bed and straight for the bathroom, but instead she just shrugs and yawns dramatically, stretching her legs beneath the covers like a lazy cat.

She turns around, facing him and idly snuggles into his chest, her hand sliding around him, fingernails beginning to gently trail along his back. She closes her eyes and hums in satisfaction when he relaxes into her touch and goosebumps rise upon the skin her fingers touch. He plays with the baby curls right above her ear, his thumb then tracing her jawline and caressing her rosy cheek, her skin pale and almost translucent. He kisses her forehead, taking his sweet time.

"Bookshop won't open today…" She informs him, voice just above a whisper, only because she knows he's wondering. "The town is celebrating and I dare say Celia is probably setting up a party as we speak—she really loves event planning."

"You were brilliant at the trial—powerful, electric, witty, smart, sexy as hell…"

"You listened through the wireless, Harry." Harry snickers and lets out a hoarse chuckle—it vibrates against her cheek.

"Aurors have imagination too, you know…" He trails off and she leans back to take a good look at his lopsided grin. Her lover's eyes are shining and Hermione knows she's just a blur to him right now. "I bet you were in the blue robes—you look your best in the blue…" He tells her, a dreamy far-off look in his eyes. Hermione huffs and rolls her eyes, giving him a gentle shove—there's no denying the satisfied smile she's trying to hide with the biting of her bottom lip, though. "Many visions I've had, of ripping that blue right off of you in that old office of yours at the Ministry, remember? Looking out at the park and the cherry trees?"

His fingers are softly trailing down her shoulders and arms until his hand cups her cool breast and though she wants to, Hermione cannot resist closing her eyes in pleasure, the familiar warm sensation arousing her. She captures his lips with hers and throws her leg across his waist, gluing herself against him, feeling his hard member press against her pelvis.

When they hear a door forcefully close, probably due to the wind, from the hallway she whispers to him:

" _Let's make it quick—little monsters are up…_ " He kisses her again and moves, pinning her against the mattress, his lips trailing kisses and suckles along her skin, a hand kneading her breast while the other parts her legs. She gasps out of pleasure when he slides deep inside of her, hips fast at work as Hermione's pleasure only grows, her nails digging into the flesh of his shoulders and back, as she bites her lips as to keep her moans low so the children won't hear. She sees an explosion of beautiful, exquisite stars when he finds that spot within her that always does the trick, he feels her womanhood tighten and tighten around him. Harry captures her lips as she trembles forcefully and wildly—grunting, buckling in her orgasm as he continues to thrust into her, deeper and faster, his hands holding a fistful of her hair, lips pressing against that delicate spot below her ear.

" _Come_ for me, Harry…" Hermione whispers, her voice breathless and husky and desperate—it's enough for him to come completely undone inside of her and she covers his lips with hers to hide the expression of his delicious release. Moments later, he slides out of her and reaches for his glasses on the nightstand. After slipping them on everything is clearer, less like a dream and more like perfect reality. He looks at her, cheeks red, lips swollen, eyes dark with sheer desire. Both their chests still wildly heaving when he presses his forehead to hers.

" _That good enough for you?_ " The corner of her lips curve upwards and he watches as her eyes sparkle, a big smile of delight illuminating her features. Gods she is beautiful—he still can't believe his luck.

Before she can respond they hear the whispered bickering of children outside their door as well as thumping and shuffling against the corridor's carpet. He presses a quick kiss to her lips and the show-off that he is, _accios_ his pajama pants, slipping them on. Hermione slips on her silk camisole that had been discarded by the bed and then silently turns to face him. She presses her finger against her own lips, motioning for them both to be quiet.

" _Let's pretend we're asleep…_ " He whispers and she rolls her eyes, unable to hide the cheesy smile or the cheesy happiness. She does as he says and buries her head in the pillow, eyes closing and lips relaxing. Harry follows suit and indeed, just a split second later come the knocks, and then the children barge into the bedroom hopping up the bed.

"Mummy wake up!" Hugo calls and Lily wiggles herself between her daddy and her mum. Albus climbs on to the edge of the bed, tugging at his father's leg.

" _Dad!"_ He calls, using all the strength he can muster to try to get his father to budge.

" _Hmm—I'm tired…_ " Hermione drawls out lazily, pressing her eyes closed. Hugo tickles her toe and she can't resist pulling her leg up with a giggle.

"Five more minutes, please!" Harry pretends to beg as Albus climbs on top of him and tries to shake him away.

"You never give us five minutes!" Albus cries out with a devilish grin. "Breakfast's on the table!"

"Breakfast?" Hermione asked a single eyelid opening wide, brown eyes seeming interested. Albus chuckles because she looks funny squinting like that.

" _Yes, indeed!_ " The raven-haired boy confirms with a grin, pulling back her covers in the hopes that she'll get up. Parents could be such children at times, he thought, rolling his eyes dramatically.

"Merlin, how efficient, they even serve breakfast! You hear that, Harry?" She turns, pushing him lightly on the shoulder enthusiastically.

"Minus these dreadful alarm clocks, I think this hotel is _très elegant_ , don't you think, 'Mione?" She smiles at his use of French and kisses a giggling Lily on the cheek, bopping her nose adoringly.

"Why is there sand all over the bed?" Albus inquires, showing the adults the bit that he grabbed in his hand from the top of the covers.

While Hermione drops her act and flushes a deep beet red from embarrassment, Harry can't help but laugh at their little adventure at the beach last night—the patrol guard nearly catching them in the act. Before she can ruin everything with a lame excuse he devilishly puts on an expression of annoyance.

"I _swear_ it's that crack on Hermione's window—I told you to fix it, you'll catch a cold during winter and last night a sand storm nearly buried us alive!" Hermione immediately catches on to what he's up to and huffs, sitting up, feet searching around the hardwood floor for her fluffy slippers.

"Oh, put a sock in it, Harry! You fix the crack then…" She exclaims and the children begin to slip out of the bed, giggling and teasing the older wizard. Albus takes Hermione's hand ushering her out the door while Hugo and Lily jump on top of Harry, who trudges out of the room and down the stairs with them hanging with arms around his neck, conversing loudly and giggling while imitating Hermione's admonishing of him.

Harry's stomach grumbles when he catches a whiff of eggs and bacon in the air, coming from the kitchen. Lily and Hugo both slide off him and take their places around the long wooden table, laid out with utter shabby care by the children. Mismatched teacups, mugs, plates and cutlery are laid out for each person and a lovely porcelain pitcher is filled with flowers and dandelions picked from theirs and the neighbors' gardens.

Teddy is by the stove wearing an apron and a white dishcloth on top of his bright blue hair to pose as a puffy muggle chef's hat. He waves them good morning with spatula in hand.

"Welcome to the Happy Gryff Restaurant where fine eating joins fine drinking!" He jokes and they all laugh.

Harry and Hermione share a look and she bites back a grin, her eyes sparkling as the chosen restaurant names spark memories of two seemingly fearless teenagers flying on the back of a hippogriff over Hogwarts many a moon ago. Merlin, they have so much history… and each day there is more.

"'Morning, mum!" Rosie calls out pulling a bright red wooden chair for Hermione to sit on. "Please take your seat.

"Thank you, darling…" Hermione places a furtive kiss on her ever-growing daughter's cheek and Rose blushes, continuing on her duties.

"And this is your seat, sir." James exclaims with great pomp in his voice, as he bows to his dad with a flourish, pulling out his own chair next to Hermione.

"Albus—orange juice!" Rose bossily calls out and the boy quickly fetches the large pitcher from the refrigerator, setting it on top of the table.

"All right, Potters & Grangers—breakfast coming through!" Teddy rounds the kitchen island carrying a large plate with eggs and bacon in one hand and chocolate chip muffins in another. Rose carries in a basket of warm Italian breads bought very early in the morning at the bakery, while James sets a large pink bowl with cut fruits on the table.

They all take their places and though a little bit tight, the dear table fits them all—the entire room colored golden from the sunlight pouring in from the large window facing the sink.

"Well, you kids sure know how to prepare a feast!" Harry compliments them, giving Hugo a high-five, while Rose smiles proudly, brown eyes sparkling with joy. He looks to his godson and shakes his head in utter awe. _Thank you_ he mouths to the teenager, who rolls his eyes and shrugs.

"Daddy, try the muffin, it's _delectable_." Lily tells him, proud that she's making use of a big new word Teddy taught her.

Harry takes a warm muffin and bites in. Indeed, it tasted heavenly and so he made a show of his reaction.

" _Hmmmm_ , it's absolutely _scrumptious_ —thank you, Lilypad."

Once they are all eating, sipping their teas, pink milks, coffees and orange juices, the sound of animated chatter and goofing around filling the kitchen, Hermione finds it necessary, nay, the best moment to get it all over with. She rises from her seat and by clanking her spoon to her cup several times calls her family's attention to her. Because that's what they were now, wasn't it?

"Attention please, thank you _ever_ so much! Well, so all of you have eyes and can see perfectly fine, right?" She starts out asking, taking in the curious eyes staring back at her.

"All except, Harry!" Teddy jokes and the boys especially snicker, finding it funny. Hermione rolls her eyes at his goofy comment and continues:

"What I meant to say, _Edward_ , was that you lot are all well aware that things are different now, aren't you?"

"Yes, mum." Rose confirms, quietly now.

"Why are things different?" Hermione asks, eyeing the children like a professor would her students.

"You're all gooey eyes and kiss, kiss, kiss now!" Lily exclaims. It wasn't quite the response Hermione was going for, as she paused, surprised—but it did the trick because immediately the children began to debate and talk over each other, louder and louder and all at once.

Harry finally finds his Gryffindor courage and also gets up, motioning for the children to quiet down and listen.

"I suppose we are all kissy, aren't we, Lily, but that's because we are in love." He turns to Hermione and laces his fingers with hers, "and that means there will be quite a bit of change in our lives from now on—for starters, we are all one big family now."

"A crazy, loud and weird family!" James contributed with a smile, "I rather like it." Hermione's eyes fill with happy tears upon his remark and she blows him a kiss across the table, making him blush ever-so-slightly.

"Yes—a crazy, loud, weird, messy, but happy family and I think that even though it may not be easy, the changes in all our lives will be for the good. For starters, I think we'll be bunking here with Hermione, Rose and Hugo for the rest of the summer," Harry's eyes shift to Teddy, who is all of the sudden very quiet in his corner of the table next to Hugo. "and hopefully Ted will stay with us until he has to leave again for school."

Teddy immediately lights up, his hair turning a bright magenta and he smiles hugely, barely containing his happiness—it was all he wanted without even knowing it.

"I knew I'd win you with the bacon!" He jokes and Hermione chuckles whilst wiping a tear away.

"Oh, don't be silly, _Teddy-bear_ , we love you, bacon or not." She replies with that matter-of-fact tone of hers that reminds Teddy a bit of 'Mary Poppins', a film he'd seen many times and that had once been his late mum's favorite.

"Uncle Harry, will Lily, Albie and James come to our school?" Rose asks, knowing that they'd always attended St. Anne's Primary School all the way in Godric's Hollow.

"We don't know yet, Petal, your mum and I are just taking things one day at a time, yeah?" Rose nods, though for her it's quite a sight to behold, her mum not really having a plan.

"Can we go to the beach then, family?" James asks, eagerly.

"Technically you should be grounded," Harry reminds him, "and you too Lily Luna—yesterday was no joke. _However_ , we're far too happy today so will let it slide." James and Lily were all smiles, "Though be warned that _any_ further misbehavior and law-breaking will be severely punished." James and Lily complain but begrudgingly agree with their father's terms. Quite pleased with himself, Harry turns to look at Hermione, "Did I do it right?" She huffs dramatically and shakes her head in a faux display of dismay, pinching the bridge of her nose—their children all laugh.

…

It took all of them about an hour after breakfast to put all the leftovers away, do the dishes and prepare for their little beach trip. The children were especially excited to show Teddy around, as he'd never been to Tenby and had only seen the ocean once before when he was little, during a trip to the Côte d'Azur with Andromeda.

Harry and Hermione followed the children hand in hand, all but Teddy knowing the twenty-minute path by heart. It was first of August and the day was as beautiful as a day could possibly be, with plenty of sunshine and not a single gray cloud in the sky, a luxury when it came to the British Isles. They passed the winding roads of colorful row houses with flowers at the windows and friendly neighbors who waved to them and wished their 'good mornings'.

"I love it here." Harry said after a few minutes of silence, just taking in the lovely town around them and the bubbly happiness and skipping around of their combined boys and girls. "I really do…"

"This is my home Harry, and Rose and Hugo's too—but I do think that just about anyplace could be our home if you, James, Lily, Albus and Teddy were there."

"You think so?" Hermione squeezed his hand and nodded, looking up towards the blue of the sky, biting her bottom lip in the way that suggested she was thinking hard about something. Moments later she finally told him what it was:

"Kingsley came forth with a proposition yesterday—a _huge_ proposition, one that I'm not so sure of." Harry furrowed his eyebrows and looked at Hermione, her face slightly worried, but still the picture of beauty in her ochre summer dress, which brought out the natural golden-brown shade of her hair and skin. "He wants me to run for Minister," she blurted out, releasing her hand from his and running it nervously through her curls.

It was indeed huge, but Harry was also aware of just how much this meant to his best friend—this was her dream and he would never in a million years stop her. Still, he didn't know quite what to say, it wasn't something he'd been expecting. Hermione had been living and working in Tenby for so long now and seemed so happy… He didn't think she would want to change from that so suddenly.

"Say something, Harry, or I might go bonkers…" She told him, eyes pleading.

"If it's your dream and what you want Hermione, you should take it. If it will bring you happiness and fulfillment, take it."

"You bring me happiness and fulfillment…" She replies and he takes her hand in his once again, stopping her in her tracks. The children continued along, oblivious to Harry and Hermione, distracted with their own conversations.

"'Mione, you and I both know it's a different sort of happiness and fulfillment— _I_ know it's different, and I support you one hundred percent. Sometimes I think you forget I've known you most of our lives… You are the most brilliant woman I know, hell, Rowena Ravenclaw would have nothing on you. If there's one person in all of England perfectly capable of being Minister—and the best Minister—in this country's history it is you. I'll be with you each step of the way, I want you to know that." Hermione's lips tremble and her eyes fill with tears. She can't hold it in much longer and throws herself into his arms, holding on to him with dear life. Harry nearly loses his balance but nevertheless holds her, for as long as she needs, burying his nose in her hair.

Hermione buries her face in the crook of his neck, taking in the scent of him, a mixture of sunshine, freshly mown grass, wood and the cinnamon from the buns he devoured during breakfast. Harry smells like home, like the only thing other than their children that she wants and needs right now. In his arms she feels at peace, as though with him at her side she can conquer and do anything. With Harry she is fearless and as complete as two entirely complete people can be when coming together—two odd balls that simply fit… And Merlin did it take them a while to get here, just about twenty-three years.

"I love you." She blurts out in between sniffles, leaning back to gaze into his eyes, emerald orbs exquisite and unique, staring back at her with so much love and devotion that she feels like she might disappear into them.

"And I love _you_ …" He wraps an arm around her shoulders and pulls her into his side as they continue their path to the beach, the children having already arrived there, the older ones setting up their parasol while Hugo and Lily wave towards them, calling their names.

"Did you bring the wine?" She finally asks and Harry chuckles, the corners of his eyes crinkling and he pulls the top of the bottle out of the large whicker beach bag for her to see. "Good."

"We need to work on your drinking problem, witch." Hermione guffaws and rolls her pretty brown eyes at him—cheeks a bright pink.

…

When Teddy looks back towards their parasol from where he's standing, cool sea water up to his waist, he sees aunt Hermione nursing a glass of wine as her back rests against his godfather's bare chest, Harry's arm wrapped loosely around her midsection, chin resting on the top of her head. He knew aunt Hermione didn't believe in divination in the slightest, but Teddy did and he also believed in fate and destiny. Looking back towards them he could only hope that one day he would find his special someone and that they would stick together through thick and thin, like those two always had, like his parents and grandparents as well. True love was a rarity and oftentimes it seemed to only really exist in the realm of novels, legends and muggle movies, but his godfather and Hermione were now all the proof Teddy needed to know that it _did_ exist and that against all odds, sooner or later everything just fell into place.

"Teddy, look! The boats are coming in!" James shouted with excitement, pointing to something in the horizon. Ted turned to look as well, the waves splashing against him, making balance a tad difficult.

The view was undeniably spectacular, the boats with their pristine white sails, fishermen arriving with the day's catch. Teddy dove into the cold blue water and swam towards the shore where Lily and Hugo had managed to cover Albus entirely with wet sand, only his face and raven-hair visible. Rosie was near the rocks with her bucket and pail, searching for shells and sea glass to decorate her sandcastle.

The sun was hot and the breeze gentle, which helped the freezing Teddy and James recover after their swims. The two sat down facing the blue ocean and horizon, James resting his arms and head on his knees.

"I think I know now why my mum wasn't so fond of aunt Hermione…" James confides, still facing forward. Teddy is caught off guard from his comment and turns to look at him.

"Why's that, Jamie?"

"Dad loved mum, but they weren't like _that._ " James replied, "I don't think I've ever seen my dad smile so much…"

"Yeah, he's always broody like that." James nods in agreement. "Does it make you sad?"

"No—I like it here, and I really like aunt Hermione, I just—I suppose I feel a bit guilty…"

"Why?"

"Because it turned out to be good that my mum left us." James was now pushing the wet sand with his feet, back and forth, eyes locked on his own repetitive movement.

" _Oh."_ It wasn't at all the response Teddy had been expecting.

"I love my mum and I miss her a lot…" Teddy nods. "It's just—things changed, this is my home now and Lily and Al's too."

"I'm sure aunt Ginny understands…" Teddy replied. "I always like to think that my parents would just be happy seeing me happy, period. But I never met them like you did your mum."

"I think she might be happy too…" James said finally, giving Teddy a little smile before running back into the water.

…

Rose was about to grab a beautiful lilac scallop shell when her eyes caught sight of white fabric stuck against a large stone. She quickly threw the scallop inside her pail and curiously examined it, thinking it looked awfully familiar. She gently tugged on the fabric until it was completely free and holding it up, though difficult because of the wind, she knew just who it belonged to. She folded it in half and with her other hand picked up the purple pail and made her way towards the parasol, where her mum had her nose deep in a novel while uncle Harry just admired the scenery and kept the look out for all the kids.

"Mummy?" Rose called, trying to catch her attention.

"Oh, right—time for more sunscreen." Hermione exclaimed, marking her page and setting the book down on the beach towel, burying her hand in the whicker bag, n search of the bottle of sun lotion. Rose rolled her eyes, hand on her hip in a position very similar to one her mother often wore.

"I think this might be yours." She showed her mum the fabric.

When Hermione's eyes landed on the delicate silk of her favorite robe, a bit dirty from the sand, with its delicate lace trims she knew there was no denying it or hiding it either. Her cheeks burned a bright red and she could feel the vibration of Harry silently laughing with his chest to her back—the old sod.

"Must've flown out the window—how strange…" Was Hermione's lame response.

Harry snorted and only laughed harder and harder, a true fit, his belly even hurt and tears escaped his eyes. Rose was far too clever to believe her mum, but from the way Harry laughed she figured it had just been a silly prank.

When Rose wandered off again after Hermione insisted she spread on the sunscreen, she whacked Harry on the head with her book.

"Arse!"

"Oh come on, 'Mione—" he replied, rubbing the spot on his head where she'd hit him with a pain-filled expression. "Like you weren't the slightest bit flattered when the old guard called you a kid? I know I was!"

"I was a lot more flattered when you went down on me, Harry James." That shut him up completely and Hermione smiled victoriously, downing the rest of her wine in one gulp.

…

October rolled around so quickly that it was hard to believe. Towards the second half of August and the entire month of September Hermione had been completely busy with campaign duties and meetings in London, while Harry held the ground at home in Tenby. Today was her first morning off in a long time and she'd been gifted the marvelous luxury of sleep until past eight by her lovely family.

She sighed pleasantly into her pillow as she felt his soft fingers graze the delicate and cool skin of her arm as she lay with her back to him. Goosebumps arose on her skin and she finally felt completely rested.

Minerva McGonagall had won the ministerial race the former evening and now Hermione's job was complete, with only the already finished proposal of Tenby's new Statute of Secrecy act to be turned in the next week.

"You know what day it is, don't you?"

"Brunch at the Burrow—I'm aware." Harry smiled and lay an affectionate kiss on her shoulder, his fingers tracing a path under the old t-shirt she slept in toward her breast.

"Kids are all excited to meet the new baby—you know what Hugo asked me yesterday?"

"What?"

"When we'd have a new baby too." Hermione bit back a hoarse laugh.

"Don't you think five kids plus Teddy Lupin are enough?" Harry shrugs.

"I know—babies cry a lot and there's also the dirty nappies to deal with, teething, rashes, drool and such— _yeah_ , I am _so_ over that…"

"You're a terrible liar, that's what you are." He chuckles because he knows she is right.

When they arrive at the Burrow it's just after ten o'clock. Hermione takes in the lovely yellows, reds and oranges of the tree leaves, still yet to fall, and the path of burnt-gold grass drawing them a path towards the front door.

Hermione still had a tough time coming here, firstly because it brought back so many memories of when they were younger and secondly because once upon a time, she was here almost every weekend when her name was still Mrs. Ronald Weasley. Though always kind and courteous towards her, Hermione knew that Molly still had difficulty seeing her with Harry, as if Hermione had usurped her daughter's place in the family and her three children as well.

"It'll be fine…" He guaranteed her, squeezing her hand reassuringly. As oblivious as he could be, Harry hadn't been blind to the tension between Hermione and his former mother-in-law, and though he really tried to avoid these confrontations in the past couple of months they both owed it to Ron and Luna to be here, for the formal presentation of their baby girl to the family.

"Mummy…" Lily tugged on Hermione's jacket and the curly-haired witch pulled her up into her arms, taking in her sweet smell of lavender and kissing her plump rosy cheeks. Rose's hand held on to Harry tight, they all knew just how emotionally difficult the arrival of a new sibling was being for her—even if now it was four siblings and not just Ron and Luna's little sprog.

"It'll be fine, Petal, you'll see—your new sister will love and look up to you and it doesn't mean you are loved any less…" He reassures her and Rosie nods. James grabs her other hand for extra support while Albus and Hugo run ahead of them and open the front door.

"Granny, we're here!" Albus calls out, pulling off his dirty boots by the door and walking about just in his socks. Hugo follows his lead, as well as James and Rose and soon Arthur's head of graying ginger hair greets them with rosy cheeks and a warm, welcoming smile.

"What a wonderful day it is—I'm happy you're all here, he admits." Patting Harry on the shoulder in that shy way of his. He turns toward Hermione and kisses her cheek as well as Lily's and claps his hands together. Almost everyone's in the parlor, waiting for Ronald and Luna to arrive. Why don't we all have some tea and biscuits?"

"Granddad, do we have cake instead?" Hugo asks and Arthur wraps an arm around his shoulders.

"Of course we have, lad—pumpkin flavored just as you and your dad like it!" Hugo jumps out of happiness and follows Arthur into the dining area. James and Albus share a look and the older boy tugs are Rosie's hand, still wrapped around her loving stepfather's.

"Come on, Ro, let's go eat some cake before Hughie ends it all!" Albus calls her and she sighs heavily, acquiescing. Harry squeezes her hand and nods her off, their eyes locking for a moment.

"I don't remember her being so nervous when Hugo was born…" Hermione shares, while Lily is still wrapped in her arms, not caring for cake in the slightest, only wanting to snuggle with her mum who'd been too busy the last few weeks.

"Well, she was three wasn't she?" Hermione nods.

"Yeah, I see your point…"

"James was a mess of his own when Lily came around—but now he loves you with all his heart, doesn't he Lily?" The little ginger nods and smiles at him, her fingers playing with Hermione's curls peacefully.

When they finally arrive in the parlor, they're greeted by all the other Weasley sons and wives, most of their kids away at Hogwarts.

"Hermione! You must be thrilled with McGonagall's win yesterday—we know we are!" George exclaimed from his spot on the sofa, arm wrapped around his wife Angelina's shoulder.

Hermione couldn't help but smile—she was both thrilled and extremely proud.

"73% of the ballots… Merlin, I don't feel sorry at all for those little shits." Bill admits, only for Fleur to swat him playfully for his use of a bad word in front of Lily.

"Yeah—neither do I," Harry agrees, gazing at his lover with bright green eyes that help to melt away her discomfort. It didn't escape Hermione that Molly still hadn't appeared to say her hello's.

Before anyone could say anything else the floo roared and out came Ron carrying a little bundle in his arms, extending his hand to help Luna who wore a lovely blue dress with hand embroidered constellations in silver thread, signature bottle-cap earrings and her pale blonde hair held in a single long braid behind her. She looked tired, as every new mother did, but also a great deal happy.

Everyone got up and the women especially cooed over the sweet, tiny baby. Percy jumped out of the arm chair for his sister-in-law to sit in it and a great feeling of pure joy warmed Harry's heart at the sight of his best mate's pure joy and excitement, looking onto his wife and child with nothing but adoration.

"Are her eyes still gray?" Hermione asks, once she gets the chance to approach, after the other ladies give the couple and child some space. Hermione had managed to peeve Mrs. Weasley once again by being inside the birthing room with Luna the day baby arrived. Apart from the healer, Hermione and Ron had both been the firsts to catch sight and hear the loud cries of the newest little Weasley.

"I think they're starting to turn blue…" Luna replies with a tender smile, her finger softly caressing the girl's chubby little cheek.

"Look, Lily—isn't she a beautiful little baby?" Harry asks and Lily nods from her seat on Hermione's lap, eyeing the tiny creature with curiosity. Up until now she and Hugo had been the youngest members of the family, so she hadn't ever been around a baby before. "Have you decided on her name yet?"

"Oh, you know how it is Harry, those mischievous horntails getting into the way of decision-making…" Luna tells him with a contented smile. "Where're Molly and Arthur?"

" _Oh_ , Luna! You've arrived, how wonderful! How's our little angel?" Molly arrived just on cue wearing her good Sunday dress and a genuinely happy smile. Luna gently lays the baby in her grandmother's awaiting arms and Molly admires her tiny and pretty little face. "Goodness, she's beautiful… Look at her, Arthur."

Ron got up from his seat once he saw Rose, Hugo and the other kids follow their grandparents into the parlor and kneeled in front of Rose and Hugo with blue eyes filling with joyful tears. He kisses both of their cheeks and pets Rose's curly hair affectionately.

"Come see your new baby sister…" Hugo is the first to take the step and sits next to his granny on the sofa. He looks at the delicate pink little thing and decides she looks very different from his sister's play dolls. "Rosie, come take a look. She reminds me an awful lot of you when you were born, though your hair is darker." He takes his eldest daughter by the hand and guides her towards the sleeping baby.

When Rose looks at her new sister her heart beats wildly in her chest. She is so tiny it's hard to believe she is real at first, but when she opens her mouth wide to yawn, only for granny to gush, and her eyes open wide she is absolutely the cutest and most wondrous creature Rose has ever laid her eyes upon. Her eyes widen as relief washes over her. The new baby is loved, but not only by her daddy and auntie Luna or her grandparents, but by Rosie herself too.

After a long few moments of just silently staring she looks at her anxious father with those clever brown eyes of hers and smiles.

"May I hold her?"

When she hears those words Hermione immediately grabs Luna's hand and squeezes it. They'd both been very worried, but everything seemed finally okay. They watch, hands laced together as Rose sets on the other side of her grandmother and Molly carefully places the baby in her arms.

"She's so soft…" Rosie marvels and Ron nods in agreement. Rose's eyes turn to Luna and she asks, curiously: "What's her name?"

"We're calling her Opal—Opal Ginevra Weasley." Upon hearing her late daughter's name Molly gasps in surprise and her eyes fill with tears. She lays her eyes upon the quiet and peaceful baby and smiles, a few tears escaping her eyes.

The mixture of pure joy and anguish she feels are indescribable, but for the first time in a very long time she finally feels the once familiar feeling of hope creep into her very core.

"Rose, Hugo and Opal—I _love_ it." She says with a tender smile, tucking one of Rosie's curls behind her ear.

"I love it too," Rose replies. "Opals are for love!" Luna chuckles and nods as it was she who had taught this to the little girl.

"Yes, they are!" Ron kisses his older daughter on the top of her head, beyond relieved.

…

After they'd all enjoyed the celebratory brunch and Luna escaped to Ron's old bedroom to nurse the baby away from the ruckus, accompanied by Fleur, Hermione found herself wandering out to the garden, the cold autumn wind brushing against her cheeks. Her feet lead her all the way down to the apple orchard, near the small river stream.

This was perhaps the loveliest and most peaceful corner of the Weasley family home. She stood for a while, looking on to the hills and tiny village houses in the horizon. Just like the seasons were changing her life had also changed and so very drastically. She couldn't at all complain, but the fear was still there no matter how hard she tried to get rid of it.

She sighed heavily and turned around, coming face to face with the stone tombstone that held the name Ginevra Molly Weasley-Potter in fine letters. It was disconcerting to be honest… She hadn't been here since the funeral.

Hermione liked to think that she and her former sister-in-law had once been great friends. Of course their bond wasn't as strong as the one that she shared with Harry or Ron, no, that one came with a lot of hardships and challenges over the years, countless sleepless nights, tears, but also shared joys and victories. It also wasn't as strong as her own bond with Luna, which managed to be a great one, despite their many drastic differences… One day Hermione was leaving the library in tears during 7th year and the next moment she and Luna were embracing and laughing in the recently re-built Ravenclaw common room, by the fire. Hermione's relationship with Ginny was quite funny. They were brought together through their ties to Ron, that was obvious, but it took a lot of work for them to grow closer from there. Ginny had changed a lot with the war and through her participation in the D.A., and it was through that respect that Hermione began to make an effort—or so she thought.

But as Hermione watched with a heavy and confused heart as Ginny and Harry became closer and closer, she felt the need to become closer to the redhead as well—she was her boyfriend's sister and her best friend's love after all. Then and there Hermione decided she better become closer friends with Ginny or in one point or another she would take her place in the trio… It was rather silly and absurd, in retrospect, but as long as Ginny Weasley lived Hermione felt threatened in a way, as though the ties that held her to Ron and Harry could so easily be cut away.

This didn't mean that she hadn't liked Ginny, she did like her a lot and when they were together, they almost always managed to have some fun or at least a few laughs over bottles of butterbeer or glasses of wine. They shared the joys and woes of marriage and motherhood with one another and also the challenges of building their respective careers midst a society that until just a few years before looked down upon them. Change never came fast…

Hermione read the younger witch's name written in stone again and from the corner of her eyes spotted a single yellow rose in a thorny bush near one of the apple trees. She made her way to it and with a simple spell and the help of her wand perfectly cut it off. She lay the rose before Ginny's tombstone.

"I have a lot to thank you for…" Hermione starts saying, "I have to thank you for James, Albus and Lily, because they are such beautiful children and so smart… Lily looks more like you every day. I want you to know that I love them—no more and no less than I love my own kids… As long as I live and breathe I'll look after them for you and give them all the love and support that they need." Hermione wipes a stray tear away and sniffles. "I also thank you for showing Harry, all of those years, that he was deserving of love and happiness all along. He wouldn't be the Harry he is now if it weren't for you, Ginny. And also, "Hermione exhales, her breath unsteady. "I know it's odd and twisted in a way, but I also have you to thank for this…" Her hand slides to her own belly, finding a comfortable resting place there.

"I knew the minute I laid eyes on you…"

Hermione jumps from the shock of hearing that voice coming from behind her. Despite its contents, they are said with tenderness and a slight tinge of sadness.

"Molly—I…" The Weasley matriarch waves her hand for Hermione to stop talking and places her warm hand on her shoulder.

"I know I haven't been easy on you for a while, and I do wish to apologize. You must understand, Hermione, that it's so difficult for me to see you with Harry and now raising my grandchildren—they are happy, so very happy—and though it is a huge relief to me and a blessing, it makes me think that they could be just as happy were my daughter still here."

" _I know."_ Hermione responds. "I would feel strange if it were someone in Rose's place too. I love them Molly, the children and Harry…"

"I know, I've always known that—it's always been in your eyes." Molly smiles and runs her hand through Hermione's curls like any doting mother would. "And there's no one I trust and respect more to be their new mother and his new wife or partner, or whatever it is you both are calling it, more. So, I suppose I also have to extend my thanks to you." Hermione can't help but throw herself in the woman's arms, wrapping her in one of her famous bear hugs.

"Your baby will be so loved…" Molly whispers, "By you, by Harry, by his or her siblings, by your mum and dad, by all of us Weasley's— _even_ little old me." Hermione's lips quiver and she can't help but cry into Molly's shoulder. She blamed it on the blasted hormones.

…

When they arrive at home the children all retire into their own bedrooms, tired from all the outdoor playing while at the Burrow and the giant feast their grandmother always puts up.

Harry watches as Hermione falls onto her favorite arm chair facing the window looking out to the ocean and moans in satisfaction once she slips off her shoes and puts her feet up on the pouf. She grabs the book resting on the antique wooden side table and begins to read. Harry could never tire of watching her—eyes dancing across the pages, the expressions on her face depending on what part she is on—sometimes tears escape her eyes, sometimes she lets out a little gasp which is the most endearing and lovable thing in the world; sometimes she laughs until her cheeks are red… He loves this about her, how transparent she is with her feelings and thoughts, how genuine she is.

After a while, he slips out of the living area and up to the bedroom they now share. The room is quiet and peaceful, with its light blues and white tones. Her scent of vanilla that permeates everything now mingles with his own—they are home now and it's an indescribable feeling.

Hermione didn't know, or maybe she did but didn't let it on—she was Hermione after all, and he was Harry, therefore a great deal oblivious—but nearly every day that he had a nice, quiet moment, he would sit on the bed and dive into the watch she gifted him with on his birthday. Each day an intimate memory of hers became his and he felt truly honored… It took trust and a whole lot of courage that he was certain he lacked when it came to these things. But Merlin, how he loved her for it.

He opened the watch and ran his thumb over the inscription: 'I carry your heart with me'. He turned the first delicate clover-shaped handle and then the second.

" _Ostende Memoriam"_ he mutters and soon he feels the watch become gradually warmer and glow an ethereal golden, soon the flames of the memory are dancing and twirling and front of him until they begin to cast the images, like a projector casts a film onto a screen.

_He sees his twenty-something self round the corridors of the Ministry's atrium, walking towards the department of Law Enforcement. He barges into her cubicle of an office and she's reviewing a pile of papers while laying on her small couch. Her delicate hand is covering the swell of her womb, her curls cascading over and down the arm of the sofa where her head is resting._

_"_ _You're naming her Rose." It is not a question._

_She lets the papers fall from her hand and doesn't even both to sit up, she probably couldn't if she wanted to anyway, so she simply turns her gaze onto him, dark eyes electric, defiant—so unnervingly beautiful._

_"_ _I think it's a lovely name…" His eyes turn up in slight annoyance before they lock with hers once more. He exhales deeply._

_"_ _I think I once told you it would one day be my daughter's name, because flowers are an Evans family tradition…"_

_"_ _Name your future daughter Zinnia or Hyacinth, then." Hermione responds, returning to her papers. Harry huffs in annoyance. "Nor you nor Ginny have ownership over a name… And don't even get me started on Albus Severus—honestly, Harry. That poor child!"_

_"_ _I'll name my son Albus Severus if I want to, Hermione." She raises an eyebrow at his remark and the corners of her lips curve into a mischievous smile._

_"_ _And I'll name my daughter Rose if I want to, Harry."_

_"_ _That's my daughter's name!" He fights back and Hermione rolls her eyes._

_"_ _No problem, Harry, she can be your daughter too if you like. I have no trouble sharing…" She winks at him flirtatiously and for a moment he is taken aback._

_"_ _You'll drive me crazy one day, Granger." He mutters, before storming out, as quick as he entered, Harry's temper in those days still nearly incontrollable._

Present-day Harry chuckles at the memory and of the little spats they had here and there. The big battle of names between them, and also each of their prides lead them to indeed name their children the dreadful Albus Severus and the lovely timeless Rose—their names were given completely out of spite, but it was a testament to just how much Hermione and her sometimes infuriating ways were something he could not live or imagine himself without. Even the smallest of things could come to have great significance when it came to the two of them, even if it wasn't something noticeable in the beginning.

He remembers holding the wailing Rose Helena with her angry-red tufts of hair, born with brown eyes wide open and so very beautiful, like her mother. When he held her in his arms for the first time, she stopped crying, choosing to stare back at him instead, curling her tiny hand around his finger.

Hermione wasn't wrong—Harry did have a daughter named Rose. He knew it was her the moment he held her, the moment his heart soared at the sight of her, but also hurt because she would never be fully his. Her mother was taken, he himself was taken.

He closes the watch and stores it carefully back into its black velvet case, inside the nightstand drawer. He thinks he knows why the watch decided to show him that memory today. Soon there would be a new baby to name.

Harry could hardly contain his excitement as it dawned on him and he bounded down the steps of the stairs, rushing toward Hermione busy reading on her chair.

"You're pregnant." Her eyes immediately leave the book she is reading and meet with his. She tries to hold back her smile but it's no use. He pulls her up by the hand, into his arms and into his passionate kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this has been just as an enjoyable and heartfelt journey for you as it has been for me. I don't think this story will ever be fully complete, but it is for now and it has to be because real life beckons and I was in desperate need of exorcising it from me.
> 
> Please leave a REVIEW, it means the world to me to know what my readers think and to just receive the words of support. This story is complete now, but there's never an excuse not to leave a comment when it's something you've thoroughly enjoyed, no matter how much time has passed. Thank you all so much!
> 
> *Credits the chapter title "The Happy Gryff" go to DeliverMeFromEve from her story "Life N.E.W.Ts"*


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